The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||
59
O, WERE I ON PARNASSUS HILL
I
O, were I on Parnassus hill,Or had o' Helicon my fill,
That I might catch poetic skill
To sing how dear I love thee!
But Nith maun be my Muses' well,
My Muse maun be thy bonie sel',
On Corsincon I'll glowr and spell,
And write how dear I love thee.
II
Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay!For a' the lee-lang simmer's day
I couldna sing, I couldna say
How much, how dear I love thee.
I see thee dancing o'er the green,
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een—
By Heaven and Earth I love thee!
III
By night, by day, a-field, at hame,The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame,
And ay I muse and sing thy name—
I only live to love thee.
60
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
Till my last weary sand was run,
Till then—and then—I'd love thee!
The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||