O, WERE I on Parnassus hill,
Or had o Helicon my fill,
That I might catch poetic skill,
To sing how dear I love thee!
But Nith maun be my Muses well,
My Muse maun be thy bonie sel,
On Corsincon Ill glowr and spell,
And write how dear I love thee.
Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay!
For a the lee-lang simmers day
I couldna sing, I couldna say,
How much, how dear, I love thee,
I see thee dancing oer the green,
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een
By Heaven and Earth I love thee!
By night, by day, a-field, at hame,
The thoughts o thee my breast inflame:
And aye I muse and sing thy name
I only live to love thee.
Tho I were doomd to wander on,
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
Till my last weary sand was run;
Till thenand then I love thee!