Jean

Robert Burns

Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw,
  I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
  The lassie I lo’e best:
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
  And monie a hill between;
But day and night my fancy’s flight
  Is ever wi’ my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
  I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu’ birds,
  I hear her charm the air:
There ’s not a bonnie flower that springs
  By fountain, shaw, or green;
There ’s not a bonnie bird that sings,
  But minds me o’ my Jean.

Next 10 Poems

• Robert Burns : John Anderson
• Robert Burns : John Anderson, My Jo
• Robert Burns : John Barleycorn
• Robert Burns : John Barleycorn: A Ballad
• Robert Burns : Lament For Culloden
• Robert Burns : Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Apporch Of Spring
• Robert Burns : Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The
• Robert Burns : Lass That Made The Bed To Me, The
• Robert Burns : Last May A Braw Wooer
• Robert Burns : Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch Ness

Previous 10 Poems

• Robert Burns : It Was A' For Our Rightful King
• Robert Burns : In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer
• Robert Burns : I Dream'd I Lay
• Robert Burns : Holy Willie's Prayer
• Robert Burns : Holy Fair, The
• Robert Burns : Highland Mary
• Robert Burns : Here's To Thy Health
• Robert Burns : Here's A Health To Them That's Awa
• Robert Burns : Hark! The Mavis
• Robert Burns : Handsome Nell