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

11 . Song—Here’s to thy health, my bonie lass

HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass,

Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee;

I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door,

To tell thee that I lo’e thee.

O dinna think, my pretty pink,

But I can live without thee:

I vow and swear I dinna care,

How lang ye look about ye.

Thou’rt aye sae free informing me,

Thou hast nae mind to marry;

I’ll be as free informing thee,

Nae time hae I to tarry:

I ken thy frien’s try ilka means

Frae wedlock to delay thee;

Depending on some higher chance,

But fortune may betray thee.

I ken they scorn my low estate,

But that does never grieve me;

For I’m as free as any he;

Sma’ siller will relieve me.

I’ll count my health my greatest wealth,

Sae lang as I’ll enjoy it;

I’ll fear nae scant, I’ll bode nae want,

As lang’s I get employment.

But far off fowls hae feathers fair,

And, aye until ye try them,

Tho’ they seem fair, still have a care;

They may prove waur than I am.

But at twal’ at night, when the moon shines bright,

My dear, I’ll come and see thee;

For the man that loves his mistress weel,

Nae travel makes him weary.