Nancy.
By Robert Burns
I.
Thine am I, my faithful fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
Ev'ry roving fancy.
II.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish:
Tho' despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.
III.
Take away those rosy lips,
Rich with balmy treasure:
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure.
IV.
What is life when wanting love?
Night without a morning:
Love's the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.