It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face.

A poem by Robert Burns

Tune - "The Maid's Complaint."


I.

It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
Nor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire.
Something in ilka part o' thee,
To praise, to love, I find;
But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

II.

Nae mair ungen'rous wish I hae,
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna mak thee sae,
at least to see thee blest.
Content am I, if heaven shall give
But happiness to thee:
And as wi' thee I'd wish to live,
For thee I'd bear to die.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face.' by Robert Burns

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy