Poems by Robert Burns

Presented by the RBWF

Let me in the ae night——–

O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit,
For Love has bound me, hand and foot,
And I would fain be in, jo.

Chorus
O let me in this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
For pity’s sake this ae night
O rise and let me in, jo.

Thou hear'st the winter wind an' weet,
Nae star blinks thro' the driving sleet;
Take pity on my weary feet,
And shield me frae the rain, jo.--------
O let me in &c.

The bitter blast that round me blaws
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's;
The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause
Of a' my grief and pine, jo.----
O let me in &c.

Thy kith and kin look down on me,
A simple lad o’ low degree;
Sae I maun try frae love to flee,
Across the raging main, jo.
I do not know but this stanza may as well be ommitted

HER ANSWER
O tell na me o’ wind and rain,
Upbraid na me wi’ cauld didain,
Gae back the gate ye cam again,
I winna let ye in, jo.---

Chorus
I tell you now this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night,
And ance fir a’ this ae night
I winna let you in, jo.

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
That round the pathless wanderer pours,
Is nocht to what poor She endures,
That 's trusted faithless Man, jo.------
I tell you now &c.

The sweetest flower that deck'd the mead,
Now trodden like the vilest weed------
Let simple maid the lesson read,
The weird may be her ain, jo.--------
I tell you now &c.

The bird that charm'd his summer day,
And now the cruel Fowler's prey,
Let that to witless woman say
The gratefu' heart o’ man, jo.--------
I tell you now &c.

Tho’ never durst my tongue reveal
Lang, lang my heart to thee ‘s been leal
O lassie dear, ae last fareweel,
For pity’s cause alane, jo.
O let me in &c.

O wyte na me until thou prove
The fatal force o’ mighty Love;
Then should on me thy fancy rove,
Count my care by thy ain, jo.
O let me in &c.

O pity ‘s ay to woman dear,
She heav’d a sigh, she drapt a tear----
“’Twas love for me that brought him here,
Sae how can I complain, jo.”

Chorus
O come your ways, this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
O come your ways this ae night,
But ye maunna do ‘t again, jo.

By God I have thought better!------
The bird that charm’d his summer-day,
Is now the cruel Fowlers prey;
Let witless, trusting Woman say
How aft her fate ‘s the same, jo.