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O were I on Parnassus hill; Or had o' Helicon my fill; That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee. But Nith maun be my Muses well, My Muse maun be my bonie sell; On Corsincon I'll glowr and spell, And write how dear I love thee. Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay! For a' the lee-lang simmer's day, I couldna sing, I couldna say, How much, how dear, I love thee. I see thee dancing o'er the green, Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean, Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een By Heaven and Earth I love thee. By night, by day, a-field, at hame, The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame; And ay I muse and sing thy name, I only live to love thee. Tho' I were doom'd to wander on, Beyond the sea, beyond the sun, Till my last weary sand was run; Till then - and then I love thee.