And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house—a house of my own—
Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.
MY LOVE’S LIKE A RED ROSE
By Robert Burns
Oh, my love’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;