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Poem by Robert Burns


The Gallant Weaver


WHERE Cart rins rowin to the sea,
By mony a flower and spreading tree,
There lives a lad, the lad for me,
  He is a gallant weaver.

Oh I had wooers aught or nine,
They gied me rings and ribbons fine;
And I was feard my heart would tine,
  And I gied it to the weaver.

My daddie signd my tocher-band,
To gie the lad that has the land;
But to my heart Ill add my hand,
  And gie it to the weaver.

While birds rejoice in leafy bowers;
While bees rejoice in opening flowers;
While corn grows green in simmer showers,
  Ill love my gallant weaver.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Canst Thou Leave Me Thus?
  2. The Heather Was Blooming
  3. Ye Sons of Old Killie
  4. Im Owre Young To Marry Yet
  5. Amang The Trees


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