Robert Burns

The Sailor’s Song

Tho’ women’s minds, like winter winds,
  	May shift, an’ turn, and a’ that,
The noblest breast adores them maist-
  	A consequence I draw that.

  	For a’ that, and a’ that,
    		An’ twice as meikle ‘s a’ that;
  	The bonnie lass that I lo’e best,
    		She’ll be my ain for a’ that!

Great love I bear to a’ the fair,
  	Their humble slave and a’ that;
But lordly will, I hold it still
  	A mortal sin to thraw that.

But there is ane aboon the lave
  	Has wit, an’ sense, and a’ that;
A bonnie lass, I like her best,
  	An’ wha a crime dare ca’ that?

In rapture sweet this hour we meet
  	Wi’ mutual love, and a’ that;
But for how lang the flee may stang, –
  	Let inclination law that.

Their tricks an’ craft has put me daft;
  	They’ve ta’en me in, and a’ that;
But clear your decks, an’ Here’s the sex!
  	I like the jads for a’ that!


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