To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems For A New Year'S Gift. Jan. 1, 1787.
By Robert Burns
Again the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driv'n, And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heav'n. No gifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail: I send you more than India boasts In Edwin's simple tale. Our sex with guile and faithless love Is charg'd, perhaps, too true; But may, dear maid, each lover prove An Edwin still to you!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Again the silent wheels of time..."
"To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems For A New Year'S Gift. Jan. 1, 1787." is a quintessential example of Robert Burns's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...