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Deluded Swain, The Pleasure.

By Robert Burns

Topics: classic

I.         Deluded swain, the pleasure             The fickle fair can give thee,         Is but a fairy treasure -             Thy hopes will soon deceive thee. II.         The billows on the ocean,             The breezes idly roaming,         The clouds uncertain motion -             They are but types of woman. III.         O! art thou not ashamed             To doat upon a feature?         If man thou wouldst be named,             Despise the silly creature. IV.         Go find an honest fellow;             Good claret set before thee:         Hold on till thou art mellow,             And then to bed in glory.

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"I...." by Robert Burns

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Robert Burns

About Robert Burns

Robert Burns (1759–1796) was Scotland's national poet, celebrated worldwide on Burns Night. He wrote in Scots and English, producing poems like "Auld Lang Syne," "A Red, Red Rose," and "To a Mouse," championing democratic values and the dignity of common people.

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