The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/O Poortith
For other versions of this work, see O Poortith.
O POORTITH.
TUNE—'I HAD A HORSE.'
O poortith cauld, and restless love,Ye wreck my peace between ye;Yet poortith a' I could forgive,An' 't werena for my Jeanie.O why should fate sic pleasure have,Life's dearest bands untwining?Or why sae sweet a flower as loveDepend on Fortune's shining?
This warld's wealth when I think on,Its pride, and a' the lave o't;Fie, fie on silly coward man,That he should be the slave o't.O why, &c.
Her een sae bonie blue betrayHow she repays my passion;But prudence is her o'erword aye,She talks of rank and fashion.O why, &c.
O wha can prudence think upon,And sic a lassie by him?O wha can prudence think upon,And sae in love as I am?O why, &c.
How blest the humble cotter's fate!He woos his simple dearie;The silly bogles, wealth and state,Can never make them eerie.O why should fate sic pleasure have,Life's dearest bands untwining?Or why sae sweet a flower as loveDepend on Fortune's shining?