LASSIE, with the lips sae rosy, With the eyne sae saft and bricht, Dear wee lassie, I keep thinkin', Thinkin' on thee day and nicht. Winter nichts are lang and eerie; Oh, gin I were with thee, dear, Arms about thee, cracking couthly, With nae mortal by to hear! With my kisses I would smother Thy white hand sae jimp and sma', And my tears for very rapture On that wee white hand should fa'. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TWO OLD BACHELORS by EDWARD LEAR BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER by WALLACE RICE MY MADONNA by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SONNET by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS: TROY by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS |