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Song—Poortith cauld and restless love

by Robert Burns, 1793

O poortith cauld, and restless love,
  Ye wrack my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
  An 'twere na for my Jeanie.

Chorus.—o why should Fate sic pleasure have,
  Life's dearest bands untwining?
Or why sae sweet a flower as love
  Depend on Fortune's shining?

The warld's wealth, when I think on,
  It's pride and a' the lave o't;
O fie on silly coward man,
  That he should be the slave o't!
      O why, &c.

Her e'en, sae bonie blue, betray
  How she repays my passion;
But prudence is her o'erword aye,
  She talks o' rank and fashion.
      O why, &c.

O wha can prudence think upon,
  And sic a lassie by him?
O wha can prudence think upon,
  And sae in love as I am?
      O why, &c.

How blest the simple cotter's fate!
  He woos his artless dearie;
The silly bogles, wealth and state,
  Can never make him eerie,
      O why, &c.

Published in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns
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