Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

HERE’S to thy health, my bonnie lass!
  Gude night, and joy be wi’ thee!
I’ll come nae mair to thy bower door,
  To tell thee that I lo’e thee.
O dinna think, my pretty pink,
  But I can live without thee:
I vow and swear I dinna care
  How lang ye look about ye.

Thou’rt aye sae free informing me
  Thou hast nae mind to marry;
I’ll be as free informing thee
  Nae time hae I to tarry.
I ken thy friends try ilka means
  Frae wedlock to delay thee,
Depending on some higher chance-
  But fortune may betray thee.

I ken they scorn my low estate,
  But that does never grieve me;
For I’m as free as any he,-
  Sma’ siller will relieve me.
I count my health my greatest wealth,
  Sae lang as I’ll enjoy it:
I’ll fear nae scant, I’ll bode nae want,
  As lang’s I get employment.

But far-aff fowls hae feathers fair,
  And aye until ye try them:
Tho’ they seem fair, still have a care,
  They may prove waur than I am.
But at twal at night, when the moon shines bright,
  My dear, I’ll come and see thee;
For the man that lo’es his mistress weel,
  Nae travel makes him weary.

1. Fairest Maid on Devon Banks
2. O Wha is She that Lo’es Me?
3. The Highland Lassie
4. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray
5. Farewell to Ballochmyle

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