Song—of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw Poem by Robert Burns

Song—of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw



OF 1 a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There's wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
And mony a hill between:
But day and night my fancys' flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.


I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bonie flower that springs,
By fountain, shaw, or green;
There's not a bonie bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean.

Saturday, November 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: song
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Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Ayrshire / Scotland
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