 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
TO AN OLD SWEETHEART
WRITTEN ON A COPY OF HIS POEMS
I
Once fondly lov'd and still remember'd dear,Sweet early object of my youthful vows,
Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere—
(Friendship! 'tis all cold duty now allows);
93
II
And when you read the simple artless rhymes,One friendly sigh for him—he asks no more—
Who, distant, burns in flaming torrid climes,
Or haply lies beneath th'Atlantic roar.
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |