Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

233 . Song—O were I on Parnassus Hill

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 Muse’s well,

My Muse maun be thy bonie sel’,

On Corsincon I’ll glowr and spell,

And write how dear I love thee.

Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay!

For a’ the lee-lang simmer’s day

I couldna sing, I couldna say,

How much, how dear, I love thee,

I see thee dancing o’er 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 doom’d to wander on,

Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,

Till my last weary sand was run;

Till then—and then I love thee!