 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONIE FACE
I
It is na, Jean, thy bonie faceNor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awauk desire.
Something in ilka part o' thee
To praise, to love, I find;
But, dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.
II
Nae mair ungen'rous wish I hae,Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna mak thee sae,
At least to see thee blest:
Content am I, if Heaven shall give
But happiness to thee,
And, as wi' thee I wish to live,
For thee I'd bear to dee.
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |