Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
276 . SongWhistle oer the lave ot
F
Heav’n, I thought, was in her air,
Now we’re married-speir nae mair,
But whistle o’er the lave o’t!
Sweet and harmless as a child— Wiser men than me’s beguil’d; Whistle o’er the lave o’t! How we love, and how we gree, I care na by how few may see— Whistle o’er the lave o’t! Dish’d up in her winding-sheet, I could write-but Meg maun see’t— Whistle o’er the lave o’t!