by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear
Language: Scottish (Scots) 
Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, 
Here's a health to one I lo'e dear,
Thou are sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet;
And soft as their parting tears.
Altho thou maun never be mine,
Altho even hope is denied,
'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
Than aught in the world beside, Jessie.

I mourn through the gay gaudy day
As hopeless I muse on thy charms,
But welcome the dream 'o sweet slumer, ane.
For then I am lockt in thy arms.
I guess by the dear angel smile
I guess by the loverolling e'e.
But why urge thetender confession,
'Gainst fortunes fell cruel decree, Jessie.

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Researcher for this text: Abigail Imhof

This text was added to the website: 2012-05-17
Line count: 16
Word count: 109