Robert Burns

Anna

Robert Burns was a Scottish poet and lyricist.






Yestreen I had a pint o' wine,
  A place where body saw na;
Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine
  The gowden locks of Anna.

The hungry Jew in wilderness
  Rejoicing o'er his manna
Was naething to my hiney bliss
  Upon the lips of Anna.

Ye Monarchs take the East and West
  Frae Indus to Savannah:
Gie me within my straining grasp
  The melting form of Anna!

There I'll despise Imperial charms,
  An empress or sultana,
While dying raptures in her arms,
  I give an' take wi' Anna!

Awa, thou flaunting God of Day!
  Awa, thou pale Diana!
Ilk star, gae hide thy twinkling ray,
  When I'm to meet my Anna!

Come, in thy raven plumage, Night
  (Sun, Moon, and Stars, withdrawn a')
And bring an Angel-pen to write
  My transports with my Anna!

The Kirk an State may join, an tell
  To do sic things I maunna:
The Kirk an State may gae to Hell,
  And I'll gae to my Anna.

She is the sunshine o' my e'e,
  To live but her I canna:
Had I on earth but wishes three,
  The first should be my Anna.

© Poetry.com