Come, let me take thee to my breast,
And pledge we ne'er shall sunder;
And I shall spurn, as vilest dust,
The warld's wealth and grandeur.
And do I hear my Jeannie own
That equal transports move her?
I ask for dearest life, alone,
That I may live to love her.
Thus in my arms, wi' a' thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure;
I'll seek nae mair o' heaven to share
Than sic a moment's pleasure.
And by thy een, sae bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever:
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never.
—Robert Burns
ROBERT BURNS
The business of Robert Burns was love-making.
All love is good, but some kinds of love are better than others. Through Burns' penchant for falling in love we have his songs. A Burns bibliography is simply a record of his love-affairs, and the spasms of repentance that followed his lapses are made manifest in religious verse.