Читать книгу Robert Burns: How To Know Him - William Allan Neilson - Страница 10

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Behind yon hills where Lugar flows,

'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,

The wintry sun the day has clos'd,

And I'll awa' to Nannie, O.

The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill, western, keen

The night's baith mirk and rainy, O; both dark

But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal,

An' owre the hill to Nannie, O. over

My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young:

Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:

May ill befa' the flattering tongue

That wad beguile my Nannie, O.

Her face is fair, her heart is true,

As spotless as she's bonnie, O:

The opening gowan, wat wi' dew, daisy, wet

Nae purer is than Nannie, O.

A country lad is my degree,

An' few there be that ken me, O;

But what care I how few they be,

I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O.

My riches a's my penny-fee, wages

An' I maun guide it cannie, O; carefully

But warl's gear ne'er troubles me, lucre

My thoughts are a'—my Nannie, O.

Our auld guidman delights to view

His sheep an' kye thrive bonnie, O. cows

But I'm as blythe that hauds his pleugh, holds

An' has nae care but Nannie, O.

Come weel, come woe, I care na by, reck not

I'll tak what Heav'n will send me, O;

Nae ither care in life have I,

But live, an' love my Nannie, O.