The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||
O, THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE
Chorus
O, this is no my ain lassie,Fair tho' the lassie be:
Weel ken I my ain lassie—
Kind love is in her e'e.
I
I see a form, I see a face,Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:
It wants to me the witching grace,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
II
She's bonie, blooming, straight, and tall,And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And ay it charms my very saul,
The kind love that's in the e'e.
249
III
A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,To steal a blink by a' unseen!
But gleg as light are lover's een,
When kind love is in the e'e.
IV
It may escape the courtly sparks,It may escape the learned clerks;
But well the watching lover marks
The kind love that's in her e'e.
Chorus
O, this is no my ain lassie,Fair tho' the lassie be:
Weel ken I my ain lassie—
Kind love is in her e'e.
The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||