My Love, She’s But A Lassie Yet

 

1789
Type: Poem

My love, she’s but a lassie yet,
My love, she’s but a lassie yet;
We’ll let her stand a year or twa,
She’ll no be half sae saucy yet;
I rue the day I sought her, O!
I rue the day I sought her, O!
Wha gets her needs na say she’s woo’d,
But he may say he’s bought her, O.

Come, draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet,
Come, draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet,
Gae seek for pleasure whare you will,
But here I never miss’d it yet,
We’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t,
We’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t;
The minister kiss’d the fiddler’s wife;
He could na preach for thinkin o’t.

————-

Home

Robert Burns Collection

Fledermausi’s Poetry Page

Robert Burns Page

Poetry from Scotland 

Poetry by subject

Poems by author and category

Parallel translations, the parallel world of translating poetry 

Poetry in Russian (you’d have to select Russian in the language switch area, otherwise you won’t be able to read poems in Russian)

Robert Burns