I've paced much this weary, mortal round,
And sage experience bids me this declare,--
"If Heaven a draught of heavenly spare--
One cordial in this melancholy vale,
'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair
In other'sarms, breathe out the tender tale,
Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
And sage experience bids me this declare,--
"If Heaven a draught of heavenly spare--
One cordial in this melancholy vale,
'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair
In other'sarms, breathe out the tender tale,
Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
Robert Burns - Poems and Songs
