Robert Burns

Polly Stewart

  O LOVELY Polly Stewart,
    O charming Polly Stewart,
  There’s ne’er a flower that blooms in May,
    That’s half so fair as thou art.


The flower it blaws, it fades, it fa’s,
  And art can ne’er renew it;
But worth and truth eternal youth
  Will gie to Polly Stewart.

May he, whase arms shall fauld thy charms,
  Possess a leal and true heart;
To him be given to ken the heaven
  He grasps in Polly Stewart.