Back to Poetry — My Highland Lassie

My Highland Lassie, O

Nae gen­tle dames, tho’ e’er sae fair,
Shall ever be my muse’s care:
Their titles a’ arc emp­ty show;
Gie me my High­land lassie, O.

Chorus.-Within the glen sae bushy, O,
Aboon the plain sae rashy, O,
I set me down wi’ right guid will,
To sing my High­land lassie, O.

O were yon hills and val­lies mine,
Yon palace and yon gar­dens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my High­land Lassie, O.

But fick­le for­tune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the rag­ing sea!
But while my crim­son cur­rents flow,
I’ll love my High­land lassie, O.

Altho’ thro’ for­eign climes I range,
I know her heart will nev­er change,
For her bosom burns with hon­our’s glow,
My faith­ful High­land lassie, O.

For her I’ll dare the bil­low’s roar,
For her I’ll trace a dis­tant shore,
That Indi­an wealth may lus­tre throw
Around my High­land lassie, O.

She has my heart, she has my hand,
By secret troth and hon­our’s band!
Till the mor­tal stroke shall lay me low,
I’m thine, my High­land lassie, O.

Farewell the glen sae bushy, O!
Farewell the plain sae rashy, O!
To oth­er lands I now must go,
To sing my High­land lassie, O.

(Song by Robert Burns 1786)