I Reign in Jeanie’s Bosom
Louis, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean? Dyvor, beggar louns to me, I reign in Jeanie’s bosom! Let her crown my love her law, And in her breast enthrone me, Kings and nations—swith awa’! Reif randies, I disown ye! It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face It is na, Jean, thy bonie face, Nor shape that I admire; Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace Might weel awauk desire. Something, in ilka part o’ thee, To praise, to love, I find, But dear as is thy form to me, Still dearer is thy mind. Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae, Nor stronger in my breast, Than, if I canna make thee sae, At least to see thee blest. Content am I, if heaven shall give But happiness, to thee; And as wi’ thee I’d wish to live, For thee I’d bear to die.