SENSIBILITY, how charming,
Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell;
But distress, with horrors arming,
Thou alas! hast known too well!
Fairest flower, behold the lily
Blooming in the sunny ray:
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley,
See it prostrate in the clay.
Hear the wood lark charm the forest,
Telling o'er his little joys;
But alas! a prey the surest
To each pirate of the skies.
Dearly bought the hidden treasure
Finer feelings can bestow:
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
More verses by Robert Burns
- Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 4
- Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee
- Verses On Captain Grose
- Suppressed Stanzas Of &Quot;The Vision&Quot;
- Epistle To Hugh Parker