The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Young Jockey
YOUNG JOCKEY.
Young Jockey was the blithest lad
In a' our town or here awa;
Fu' blithe he whistled at the gaud,
Fu' lightly danc'd he in the ha'!
He roos'd my een sae bonie blue,
He roos'd my waist sae genty sma';
An' aye my heart came to my mou,
When ne'er a body heard or saw.
In a' our town or here awa;
Fu' blithe he whistled at the gaud,
Fu' lightly danc'd he in the ha'!
He roos'd my een sae bonie blue,
He roos'd my waist sae genty sma';
An' aye my heart came to my mou,
When ne'er a body heard or saw.
My Jockey toils upon the plain,
Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw;
And o'er the lea I look fu' fain
When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.
An' aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a';
An' aye he vows he'll be my ain
As lang's he has a breath to draw.
Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw;
And o'er the lea I look fu' fain
When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.
An' aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a';
An' aye he vows he'll be my ain
As lang's he has a breath to draw.