Robert Burns


* * *


ONE night as I did wander,
  When corn begins to shoot,
I sat me down to ponder,
  Upon an auld tree root:

Auld Ayr ran by before me,
  And bicker’d to the seas;
A cushat crooded o’er me
  That echoed thro’ the braes.






English Poetry - http://eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru