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Poems and Songs of Robert Burns. Robert BurnsЧитать онлайн книгу.

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and working at times,

Does little or naething at a', man.

Yet I wadna choose to let her refuse,

Nor hae't in her power to say na, man:

For though I be poor, unnoticed, obscure,

My stomach's as proud as them a', man.

Though I canna ride in weel-booted pride,

And flee o'er the hills like a craw, man,

I can haud up my head wi' the best o' the breed,

Though fluttering ever so braw, man.

My coat and my vest, they are Scotch o' the best,

O'pairs o' guid breeks I hae twa, man;

And stockings and pumps to put on my stumps,

And ne'er a wrang steek in them a', man.

My sarks they are few, but five o' them new,

Twal' hundred, as white as the snaw, man,

A ten-shillings hat, a Holland cravat;

There are no mony poets sae braw, man.

I never had frien's weel stockit in means,

To leave me a hundred or twa, man;

Nae weel-tocher'd aunts, to wait on their drants,

And wish them in hell for it a', man.

I never was cannie for hoarding o' money,

Or claughtin't together at a', man;

I've little to spend, and naething to lend,

But deevil a shilling I awe, man.

Song—Here's To Thy Health

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Tune—“Laggan Burn.”

Here's to thy health, my bonie lass,

Gude nicht and joy be wi' thee;

I'll come nae 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.

Thou'rt aye sae free informing me,

Thou hast nae mind to marry;

I'll be as free informing thee,

Nae time hae I to tarry:

I ken thy frien's try ilka means

Frae wedlock to delay thee;

Depending on some higher chance,

But fortune may betray thee.

I ken they scorn my low estate,

But that does never grieve me;

For I'm as free as any he;

Sma' siller will relieve me.

I'll count my health my greatest wealth,

Sae lang as I'll enjoy it;

I'll fear nae scant, I'll bode nae want,

As lang's I get employment.

But far off fowls hae feathers fair,

And, aye until ye try them,

Tho' they seem fair, still have a care;

They may prove waur than I am.

But at twal' at night, when the moon shines bright,

My dear, I'll come and see thee;

For the man that loves his mistress weel,

Nae travel makes him weary.

Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The^1

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[Footnote 1: The lass is identified as Ellison Begbie, a servant

wench, daughter of a “Farmer Lang”.]

A Song of Similes

Tune—“If he be a Butcher neat and trim.”

On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;

Could I describe her shape and mein;

Our lasses a' she far excels,