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Jean by Robert Burns

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 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 o' my Jean.

.....Jean by Robert Burns (1759-96)

 
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Saturday, 07-Nov-2009 21:29:15 GMT



Archived Love Quote: Report writing, like motor-car driving and love-making, is one of those activities which almost every Englishman thinks he can do well without instruction. The results are of course usually abominable. -- Tom Margerison

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