Jessy.

Tune - "Here's a health to them that's awa."



I.

    Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
        Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
    Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
        And soft as their parting tear - Jessy!

II.

    Altho' thou maun never be mine,
        Altho' even hope is denied;
    'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
        Then aught in the world beside - Jessy!

III.

    I mourn through the gay, gaudy day,
        As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms:
    But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber,
        For then I am lockt in thy arms - Jessy!

IV.

    I guess by the dear angel smile,
        I guess by the love rolling e'e;
    But why urge the tender confession
        'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree? - Jessy!
    Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
        Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
    Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
        And soft as their parting tear - Jessy!

Robert Burns

Robert Burns, also known as Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. Born on January 25, 1759, in Alloway, he is best known for works such as 'Auld Lang Syne,' 'Scots Wha Hae,' and 'A Red, Red Rose.' He passed away on July 21, 1796, in Dumfries.

Robert Burns

Stay, My Charmer.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Stanzas - On The Same Occasion.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

My Father Was A Farmer.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Galla Water.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

English

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Jessie.

I.

    True hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
        And fair are the maids on the banks o' the Ayr,
    But by the sweet side o' the Nith's winding river,
        Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair:
    To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over;
        To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain;
    Grace, beauty, and elegance fetter her lover,
        And maidenly modesty fixes the chain.

II.

    O, fresh is the rose in the gay, dewy morning,
        And sweet is the lily at evening close;
    But in the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie
        Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.
    Love sits in her smile, a wizard ensnaring;
        Enthron'd in her een he delivers his law:
    And still to her charms she al...

Robert Burns

Fair Jeany.

Tune - "Saw ye my father?"



I.

    Where are the joys I have met in the morning,
        That danc'd to the lark's early song?
    Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring,
        At evening the wild woods among?

II.

    No more a-winding the course of yon river,
        And marking sweet flow'rets so fair:
    No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure,
        But sorrow and sad sighing care.

III.

    Is it that summer's forsaken our valleys,
        And grim, surly winter is near?
    No, no, the bees' humming round the gay roses,
        Proclaim it the pride of the year.

IV.

    Fain would I hide, what I fear to discover,
        Yet long, long too well have I known,

Robert Burns

To Miss Jessy Lewars, Dumfries. With Johnson'S 'Musical Museum.'

    Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair,
    And with them take the Poet's prayer;
    That fate may in her fairest page,
    With every kindliest, best presage
    Of future bliss, enrol thy name:
    With native worth and spotless fame,
    And wakeful caution still aware
    Of ill, but chief, man's felon snare;
    All blameless joys on earth we find,
    And all the treasures of the mind,
    These be thy guardian and reward;
    So prays thy faithful friend, The Bard.

June 26, 1796.

Robert Burns

Jessy Lewars.

    Talk not to me of savages
        From Afric's burning sun,
    No savage e'er could rend my heart
        As, Jessy, thou hast done.
    But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,
        A mutual faith to plight,
    Not even to view the heavenly choir
        Would be so blest a sight.

Robert Burns

Here's To Thy Health, My Bonnie Lass.

Tune - "Laggan Burn."


I.

    Here's to thy health, my bonnie lass,
        Gude night, and joy be wi' thee;
    I'll come na mair to thy bower-door,
        To tell thee that I lo'e thee.
    O dinna think, my pretty pink,
        But I can live without thee:
    I vow and swear I dinna care
        How lang ye look about ye.

II.

    Thou'rt ay sae free informing me
        Thou hast na mind to marry;
    I'll be as free informing thee
        Nae time hae I to tarry.
    I ken thy friends try ilka means,
        Frae wedlock to delay thee;
    Depending on some higher chance -
        But fortune may betray thee.

III.

    I ken they scorn my low estate,
        But that does never griev...

Robert Burns

To Robert Burns

Sweet Singer that I loe the maist
O' ony, sin' wi' eager haste
I smacket bairn-lips ower the taste
O' hinnied sang,
I hail thee, though a blessed ghaist
In Heaven lang!

For weel I ken, nae cantie phrase,
Nor courtly airs, nor lairdly ways,
Could gar me freer blame, or praise,
Or proffer hand,
Where "Rantin' Robbie" and his lays
Thegither stand.

And sae these hamely lines I send,
Wi' jinglin' words at ilka end,
In echo o' the sangs that wend
Frae thee to me
Like simmer-brooks, wi mony a bend
O' wimplin' glee.

In fancy, as wi' dewy een,
I part the clouds aboon the scene
Where thou wast born, and peer atween,
I see nae spot
In a' the Hielands half sae green
And unforgot?

I see nae storied castle-hall...

James Whitcomb Riley