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Poem by Robert Burns


Lines Written on a Bank-note


WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf!
Fell source o a my woe and grief!
For lack o thee Ive lost my lass!
For lack o thee I scrimp my glass!
I see the children of affliction
Unaided, thro thy cursd restriction.
Ive seen the oppressors cruel smile
Amid his hapless victims spoil,
And for thy potence vain have wussd
To crush the villain in the dust.
For lack o thee I leave this much-lovd shore,
Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. The Day Returns
  2. Tam The Chapman
  3. On Andrew Turner
  4. Raving Winds Around Her Blowing
  5. The Tither Morn


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