FETE CHAMPETRE
(Robert Burns)
O, wha will to Saint Stephen`s House,
To do our errands there, man?
O, wha will to Saint Stephen`s House
O, th` merry lads of Ayr, man?
Or will ye send a man-o-law?
Or will ye send a sodger?
Or him wha led o`er Scotland a`
The meikle Ursa-Major?
Come, will ye court a noble lord,
Or buy a score o` lairds, man?
For Worth and Honour pawn their word.
Their vote shall be Glencaird`s, man.
Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine,
Anither gies them clatter;
Anbank, wha guess`d the ladies` taste,
He gies a Fete Champetre.
When Love and Beauty heard the news
The gay green-woods amang, man,
Where, gathering flowers, and busking bowers,
They heard the blackbird`s sang, man:
A vow, they seal`d it with a kiss,
Sir Polities to fetter:
As their alone, the patent bliss,
To hold a Fete Champetre.
Then mounted Mirth on gleesome wing,
O`er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man
She summon`d every social sprite,
That sports by wood or water,
On th` bonie banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fete Champetre.
Cauld Boreas, wi his boisterous crew
Were bound to stakes like kye, man;
And Cynthia`s ear, o silver fu,
Clamb up the starry sky, man:
Reflected beams dwell in the streams,
Or down the current shatter;
The western breeze steals through the trees
To view this Fete Champetre.
How many a robe sae gaily floats,
What sparkling jewels glance, man,
To harmony`s enchanting notes,
As moves the mazy dance, man!
The echoing wood, the winding flood,
Like Paradise did glitter,
When angels met at Adam`s yett
To hold their Fete Champetre.
When Politics came there, to mix
And make his ether-stane, man,
He circled round the magic ground,
But entrance found he nane, man:
He blush`d for shame, he quat his name,
Forswore it, every letter,
Wi humble prayer to join and share
This festive Fete Champetre.
tune:Killicrankie (313)
filename[FCHMPTRE
play.exe FCHMPTRE
ARB
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===
