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Poem by Robert Burns

Young Jockey

YOUNG Jockey was the blithest lad
  In a our town or here awa;
Fu blithe he whistled at the gaud,
  Fu lightly danced he in the ha!
He roosd my een sae bonnie blue,
  He roosd my waist sae genty sma;
An aye my heart came to my mou,
  When neer a body heard or saw.

My Jockey toils upon the plain,
  Thro wind and weet, thro frost and snaw;
And oer the lea I look fu fain
  When Jockeys owsen hameward ca.
An aye the night comes round again,
  When in his arms he takes me a;
An aye he vows hell be my ain
  As langs he has a breath to draw.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. The Sailors Song
  2. Evan Banks
  3. The Rantin Dog the Daddie Ot
  4. Had I The Wyte
  5. The Fete Champetre

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