Poems & songs . er ee. O this is no my ain lassie, Fair tho the lassie be ;O weel ken I my ain lassie, Kind love is in her ee. SONGS BY ROBERT BURNS. WHA IS SHE THAT LOES ME. Tune—Morag. O wha is she that loes me,And has my heart a-keeping ? O sweet is she that loes me,As dews o simmer weeping,In tears the rose-buds steeping ! O thats the lassie o my heart,My lassie ever dearer; O thats the queen o womankind,And neer a ane to peer her. If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, That een thy chosen lassie, Erewhile thy breast sae warming,Had neer sic powers alarming;O thats, etc
Poems & songs . er ee. O this is no my ain lassie, Fair tho the lassie be ;O weel ken I my ain lassie, Kind love is in her ee. SONGS BY ROBERT BURNS. WHA IS SHE THAT LOES ME. Tune—Morag. O wha is she that loes me,And has my heart a-keeping ? O sweet is she that loes me,As dews o simmer weeping,In tears the rose-buds steeping ! O thats the lassie o my heart,My lassie ever dearer; O thats the queen o womankind,And neer a ane to peer her. If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, That een thy chosen lassie, Erewhile thy breast sae warming,Had neer sic powers alarming;O thats, etc. If thou hadst heard her talking,And thy attentions plighted, That ilka body talking, But her by thee is slighted,And thou art all delighted; O thats, etc. If thou hast met this fair one ;When frae her thou hast parted, If every other fair one, But her, thou hast deserted,And thou art broken-hearted; O thats the lassie o my heart,My lassie ever dearer; O thats the queen o womankind,And neer a ane to peer SONGS BY ROBERT BURNS Whispring spirits round my pillowTalk of him thats far awa. Ye whom sorrow never wounded,Ye who never shed a tear, Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,Gaudy day to you is dear. Gentle night, do thou befriend me ; Downy sleep, the curtain draw;Spirits kind, again attend me, Talk of him thats far awa! O POORTITH CAULD. Tune—/ had a horse. O poortith cauld, and restless love,Ye wreck my peace between ye; Yet poortith a I could forgive,An twere na for my Jeannie. O why should fate sic pleasure have,Lifes dearest bands untwining ? Or why sae sweet a flower as loveDepend on fortunes shining ! This warlds wealth when I think on,Its pride, and a the lave ot— Fie, fie on silly coward man, That he should be the slave ot! Her een sae bonnie blue betrayHow she repays my passion ; But prudence is her oerword aye,She talks of rank and fashion. O wha can prudence think upon, And sic a lassie by him?O wha can prudence think upon, And sae in love as I am ! LADY MA
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Keywords: ., bookauthorburnsrob, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1875
