Song—Poortith cauld and restless love
O poortith cauld, and restless love,
Ye wrack my peace between ye;
Yet poortith aÂ’ I could forgive,
An Â’twere na for my Jeanie.
Chorus.—O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
LifeÂ’s dearest bands untwining?
Or why sae sweet a flower as love
Depend on FortuneÂ’s shining?
The warldÂ’s wealth, when I think on,
ItÂ’s pride and aÂ’ the lave oÂ’t;
O fie on silly coward man,
That he should be the slave oÂ’t!
O why, &c.
Her eÂ’en, sae bonie blue, betray
How she repays my passion;
But prudence is her oÂ’erword aye,
She talks oÂ’ rank and fashion.
O why, &c.
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sic a lassie by him?
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sae in love as I am?
O why, &c.
How blest the simple cotterÂ’s fate!
He woos his artless dearie;
The silly bogles, wealth and state,
Can never make him eerie,
O why, &c.
Poems by Robert Burns
