Robert Burns

Country Lassie

IN simmer when the hay was mawn,
  And corn wav’d green in ilka field,
While claver blooms white o’er the lea;
  And roses blaw in ilka bield;
Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel
  Says ‘I’ll be wed, come o’t what will;’
Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,
  ‘O’ guid advisement comes nae ill.

‘It’s ye hae wooers mony ane,
  And, lassie, ye’re but young ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale
  A routhie butt, a routhie ben;
There’s Johnie o’ the Buskie-glen,
  Fu’ is his barn, fu’ is his byre;
Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
  It’s plenty beets the luver’s fire.’

‘For Johnie o’ the Buskie-glen
  I dinna care a single file;
He lo’es sae weel his craps and kye,
  He has nae love to spare for me:
But blithe’s the blink o’ Robie’s ee,
  And weal I wat he lo’es me dear:
Ae blink o’ him I wad nae gie
  For Buskie-glen and a’ his gear.’

‘O thoughtless lassie, life’s a faught!
  The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fu’ han’t is fechtin’ best,
  A hungry care’s an unco care;
But some will spend, and some will spare,
  An’ wilfu’ folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
  Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.’

‘O, gear will buy me rigs o’ land,
  And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o’ leesome love
  The gowd and siller canna buy:
We may be poor-Robie and I,
  Light is the burden love lays on;
Content and love brings peace and joy,-
  What mair hae queens upon a throne?’

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