Robert Burns

My Nannie's Awa

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat o’er the braes,
While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw;
But to me it’s delightless-my Nannie’s awa.

The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the weet o’ the morn:
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o’ Nannie-and Nannie’s awa.

Thou laverock that springs frae the dews o’ the lawn
The shepherd to warn o’ the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa’,
Gie over for pity-my Nannie’s awa.

Come autumn sae pensive, in yellow and gray,
And soothe me wi’ tidings o’ nature’s decay;
The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw,
Alane can delight me-now Nannie’s awa.