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233. Song—O were I on Parnassus Hill

 O, WERE I on Parnassus hill,
Or had o’ Helicon my fill,
That I might catch poetic skill,
 To sing how dear I love thee!
But Nith maun be my Muse’s well,
My Muse maun be thy bonie sel’,
On Corsincon I’ll glowr and spell,
 And write how dear I love thee.
Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay! For a’ the lee-lang simmer’s day I couldna sing, I couldna say, How much, how dear, I love thee, I see thee dancing o’er the green, Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean, Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een— By Heaven and Earth I love thee! By night, by day, a-field, at hame, The thoughts o’ thee my breast inflame: And aye I muse and sing thy name— I only live to love thee.
Tho’ I were doom’d to wander on, Beyond the sea, beyond the sun, Till my last weary sand was run; Till then—and then I love thee!

Poem by Robert Burns
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