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Robert Burns (1759–1796).  Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 
285. Song—I Gaed a Waefu’ Gate Yestreen
 
 
I GAED a waefu’ gate yestreen,
  A gate, I fear, I’ll dearly rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
  Twa lovely een o’bonie blue.
’Twas not her golden ringlets bright,        5
  Her lips like roses wat wi’ dew,
Her heaving bosom, lily-white—
  It was her een sae bonie blue.
 
She talk’d, she smil’d, my heart she wyl’d;
  She charm’d my soul I wist na how;        10
And aye the stound, the deadly wound,
  Cam frae her een so bonie blue.
But “spare to speak, and spare to speed;”
  She’ll aiblins listen to my vow:
Should she refuse, I’ll lay my dead        15
  To her twa een sae bonie blue.
 

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