您可以在百度里搜索“Poems and Songs of Robert Burns 艾草文学(www.321553.xyz)”查找最新章节！

　　Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The 注释标题 The lass is identified as Ellison Begbie, a servant wench, daughter of a “Farmer Lang”.

　　A Song of Similes

　　Tune—“If he be a Butcher neat and trim.”

　　On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;

　　Could I describe her shape and mein;

　　Our lasses a' she far excels,

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　She's sweeter than the morning dawn,

　　When rising Phoebus first is seen,

　　And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　She's stately like yon youthful ash,

　　That grows the cowslip braes between,

　　And drinks the stream with vigour fresh;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,

　　With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,

　　When purest in the dewy morn;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her looks are like the vernal May,

　　When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene,

　　While birds rejoice on every spray;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her hair is like the curling mist,

　　That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,

　　When flow'r-reviving rains are past;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her forehead's like the show'ry bow,

　　When gleaming sunbeams intervene

　　And gild the distant mountain's brow;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,

　　The pride of all the flowery scene,

　　Just opening on its thorny stem;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her bosom's like the nightly snow,

　　When pale the morning rises keen,

　　While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,

　　That sunny walls from Boreas screen;

　　They tempt the taste and charm the sight;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,

　　With fleeces newly washen clean,

　　That slowly mount the rising steep;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,

　　That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,

　　When Phoebus sinks behind the seas;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,

　　That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,

　　While his mate sits nestling in the bush;

　　An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

　　But it's not her air, her form, her face,

　　Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen;

　　'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace,

　　An' chiefly in her roguish een. Poems and Songs of Robert Burns