Home

 


Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns


On Chloris

Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.

From the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn:
No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever
I plant in that bosom a thorn!

Glossary

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O
P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | Y