'Twas Na Her Bonie Blue E'e

by Robert Burns

'Twas na her bonie blue e'e was my ruin:

Fair tho' she be, that was ne'er my undoin.

'Twas the dear smile when naebody did mind us.

'Twas the bewitching, sweet, stoun glance o' kindness!

Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me,

Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me;

But tho' fell Fortune should fate us to sever,

Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever.

Chloris, I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest,

And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest,

And thou'rt the angel that never can alter -

Sooner the sun in his motion would falter!