THINE am I, my faithful Fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
Ev'ry roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish;
Tho' despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.
Take away those rosy lips,
Rich with balmy treasure;
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure!
What is life when wanting Love?
Night without a morning:
Love's the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.
Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair
Robert Burns
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Poem topics: despair, heart, life, nature, night, summer, sun, pleasure, morning, treasure, anguish, away, thine, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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