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Index


Lovely Davies
TUNE: Miss Muir

 

Burns Original

Standard English Translation

1.
O, how shall I, unskilfu', try
The Poet's occupation?
The tunefu' Powers, in happy hours
That whisper inspiration,
Even they maun dare an effort mair
Than aught they ever gave us,
Ere they rehearse in equal verse
The charms o' lovely Davies.
2.
Each eye, it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,
When past the shower, and every flower
The garden is adorning!
As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is,
Sae droops our heart, when we maun part
Frae charming, lovely Davies.
3.
Her smile's a gift frae 'boon the lift,
That maks us mair than princes.
A sceptred hand, a king's command,
Is in her darting glances.
The man in arms 'gainst female charms,
Even he her willing slave is:
He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering lovely Davies.
4.
My Muse to dream of such a theme
Her feeble powers surrenders;
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendours.
I wad in vain essay and strain -
The deed too daring brave is!
I'll drap the lyre, and, mute, admire
The charms o' lovely Davies.


O, how shall I, unskillful, try
The Poet's occupation?
The tuneful Powers, in happy hours
That whisper inspiration,
Even they must dare an effort more
Than anything they ever gave us,
Ere they rehearse in equal verse
The charms of lovely Davies.

Each eye, it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,
When past the shower, and every flower
The garden is adorning!
As the wretch looks over Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is,
So droops our heart, when we must part
From charming, lovely Davies.

Her smile is a gift from above the sky,
That makes us more than princes.
A sceptred hand, a king's command,
Is in her darting glances.
The man in arms against female charms,
Even he her willing slave is:
He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering lovely Davies.

My Muse to dream of such a theme
Her feeble powers surrenders;
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendours.
I would in vain essay and strain -
The deed too daring brave is!
I will drop the lyre, and, mute, admire
The charms of lovely Davies.

 

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