Robert Burns

Thine am I, my Chloris fair

written in 1794

Thine am I, my Chloris fair, Well thou may'st discover; Every pulse along my veins Tells the ardent Lover. To thy bosom lay my heart, There to throb and languish: Tho' Despair had wrung its core, That would heal its anguish. Take away these 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.

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