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Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

WHA is that at my bower door?
  O wha is it but Findlay?
Then gae your gate, yese nae be here!
  Indeed maun I, quo Findlay.
What mak ye sae like a thief?
  O come and see, quo Findlay;
Before the morn yell work mischief;
  Indeed will I, quo Findlay.

Gif I rise and let you in;
  Let me in, quo Findlay;
Yell keep me waukin wi your din;
  Indeed will I, quo Findlay.
In my bower if ye should stay;
  Let me stay, quo Findlay;
I fear yell bide till break o day;
  Indeed will I, quo Findlay.

Here this night if ye remain;
  Ill remain, quo Findlay;
I dread yell learn the gate again;
  Indeed will I, quo Findlay.
What may pass within this bower-
  Let it pass, quo Findlay;
Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
  Indeed will I, quo Findlay.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. A Fragment (No cold approach, no altered mien)
  2. On Maria Dancing
  3. Thanksgiving for Victory
  4. To the Beautiful Eliza J n
  5. On Mr. W. Cruikshank of the High School, Edinburgh

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