How,
Liberty!
Robert Burns - Poems and Songs
Ca' the yowes, &c.
[Footnote 1: An old ruin in a sweet situation at the
confluence of the Clouden and the Nith. --R. B. ]
She Says She Loes Me Best Of A'
Tune--"Oonagh's Waterfall. "
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly o'er-arching
Twa laughing e'en o' lovely blue;
Her smiling, sae wyling.
Wad make a wretch forget his woe;
What pleasure, what treasure,
Unto these rosy lips to grow!
Such was my Chloris' bonie face,
When first that bonie face I saw;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm--
She says, she lo'es me best of a'.
Like harmony her motion,
Her pretty ankle is a spy,
Betraying fair proportion,
Wad make a saint forget the sky:
Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form and gracefu' air;
Ilk feature--auld Nature
Declar'd that she could do nae mair:
Hers are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering Beauty's sovereign law;
And still my Chloris' dearest charm--
She says, she lo'es me best of a'.
Let others love the city,
And gaudy show, at sunny noon;
Gie me the lonely valley,
The dewy eve and rising moon,
Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silver light the boughs amang;
While falling; recalling,
The amorous thrush concludes his sang;
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove,
By wimpling burn and leafy shaw,
And hear my vows o' truth and love,
And say, thou lo'es me best of a'.
To Dr. Maxwell
On Miss Jessy Staig's recovery.
Maxwell, if merit here you crave,
That merit I deny;
You save fair Jessie from the grave! --
An Angel could not die!
To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J--N
On her Principles of Liberty and Equality.
How, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam'd?
Equality too! hussey, art not asham'd?
Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest,
And over their hearts a proud Despot so reignest.
On Chloris
Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.
From the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn:
No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever
I plant in that bosom a thorn!
On Seeing Mrs. Kemble In Yarico
Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief
For Moses and his rod;
At Yarico's sweet nor of grief
The rock with tears had flow'd.
Epigram On A Country Laird,
not quite so wise as Solomon.
Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardonessp,
With grateful, lifted eyes,
Who taught that not the soul alone,
But body too shall rise;
For had He said "the soul alone
From death I will deliver,"
Alas, alas! O Cardoness,
Then hadst thou lain for ever.
On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat
Belonging to the same Laird.
We grant they're thine, those beauties all,
So lovely in our eye;
Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness,
For others to enjoy!
On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood
is expressed in the Rev.
