“I love my Jean”

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

OF a’ the airts the wind can blaw,

I dearly like the west;

For there the bonnie lassie lives,

The lassie I lo’e best.

There wild woods grow, and rivers row,

And monie a hill ’s between;

But day and night my fancy’s flight

Is ever wi’ my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,

I see her sweet and fair;

I hear her in the tunefu’ birds,

I hear her charm the air;

There ’s not a bonnie flower that springs

By fountain, shaw, or green;

There ’s not a bonnie bird that sings,

But minds me of my Jean.