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Poem by Robert Burns


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O, WAT ye whas in yon town,
  Ye see the eenin sun upon?
The dearest maids in yon town,
  That eenin sun is shining on.

Now haply down you gay green shaw,
  She wanders by yon spreading tree:
How blest ye flowrs that round her blaw,
  Ye catch the glances o her ee!

How blest ye birds that round her sing,
  And welcome in the blooming year!
And doubly welcome be the spring
  The season to my Jeanie dear!

The sun blinks blithe on yon town,
  And on yon bonnie braes sae green;
But my delight in yon town,
  And dearest pleasure, is my Jean.

Without my love, not a the charms
  O Paradiae could yield me joy;
But gie me Jeanie in my arms,
  And welcome Laplands dreary sky!

My cave wad be a lovers bower,
  Tho raging winter rent the air;
And she a lovely little flower,
  That I wad tent and shelter there.

O sweet is she in yon town,
  Yon sinkin suns gane down upon;
A fairer thans in yon town,
His setting beam neer shone upon.

If angry fate is sworn my foe,
  And suffering I am doomd to bear;
I careless quit all else below,
  But spare, O spare me Jeanie dear.

For while lifes dearest blood is warm,
  Ae thought frae her shall neer depart,
And she-as fairest is her form,
  She has the truest, kindest heart.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Epitaph on a Henpecked Country Squire
  2. Verses Intended to be Written Below a Noble Earls Picture
  3. To Dr. Maxwell, on Miss Jessy Staigs Recovery
  4. The Tither Morn
  5. Katharine Jaffray


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