Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VIII. Wedded LoveThe day returns, my bosom burns
Robert Burns (17591796)T
The blissful day we twa did meet;
Though winter wild in tempest toiled,
Ne’er summer sun was half sae sweet.
Than a’ the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o’er the sultry line,—
Than kingly robes, and crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more; it made thee mine.
Or nature aught of pleasure give,—
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee and thee alone I live;
When that grim foe of life below
Comes in between to make us part,
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss,—it breaks my heart.