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Poem by Robert Burns

My Chloris

MY Chloris, mark how green the groves,
  The primrose banks how fair:
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
  And wave thy flaxen hair.

The lavrock shuns the palace gay,
  And oer the cottage sings:
For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
  To shepherds as to kings.

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu string
  In lordly lighted ha:
The shepherd stops his simple reed,
  Blythe, in the birken shaw.

The princely revel may survey
  Our, rustic dance wi acorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours
  Beneath the milk-white thorn?

The shepherd, in the flowery glen,
  In shepherds phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,
  But is his heart as true?

These wild-wood flowers Ive pud, to deck
  That spotless breast o thine:
The courtiers gems may witness love-
  But tis na love like mine.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Blithe Hae I Been on Yon Hill
  2. The Cardin Ot
  3. Theniel Menzies Bonnie Mary
  4. Whan I Sleep I Dream
  5. Sleepst Thou, or Wakst Thou

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