Poems and Songs of Robert Burns. Robert Burns

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       When flow'r-reviving rains are past;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her forehead's like the show'ry bow,

       When gleaming sunbeams intervene

       And gild the distant mountain's brow;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,

       The pride of all the flowery scene,

       Just opening on its thorny stem;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her bosom's like the nightly snow,

       When pale the morning rises keen,

       While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,

       That sunny walls from Boreas screen;

       They tempt the taste and charm the sight;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,

       With fleeces newly washen clean,

       That slowly mount the rising steep;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,

       That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,

       When Phoebus sinks behind the seas;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,

       That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,

       While his mate sits nestling in the bush;

       An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

       But it's not her air, her form, her face,

       Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen;

       'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace,

       An' chiefly in her roguish een.