---
title: "Her Answer"
author: "Robert Burns"
form: "Poem"
year: "1795"
location: "Dumfries"
source: "Project Gutenberg #1279 — Poems and Songs of Robert Burns"
source_url: "https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1279/pg1279.txt"
canonical_url: "https://robert-burns.com/poems/her-answer/"
---

# Her Answer

## Poem
O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,  
Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain,  
Gae back the gate ye cam again,  
I winna let ye in, jo.

*Chorus*  
I tell you now this ae night,  
This ae, ae, ae night;  
And ance for a’ this ae night,  
I winna let ye in, jo.

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,  
That round the pathless wand’rer pours  
Is nocht to what poor she endures,  
That’s trusted faithless man, jo.

*Chorus*  
I tell you now this ae night,  
This ae, ae, ae night;  
And ance for a’ this ae night,  
I winna let ye in, jo.

The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,  
Now trodden like the vilest weed—  
Let simple maid the lesson read  
The weird may be her ain, jo.

*Chorus*  
I tell you now this ae night,  
This ae, ae, ae night;  
And ance for a’ this ae night,  
I winna let ye in, jo.

The bird that charm’d his summer day,  
Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;  
Let witless, trusting, Woman say  
How aft her fate’s the same, jo!

*Chorus*  
I tell you now this ae night,  
This ae, ae, ae night;  
And ance for a’ this ae night,  
I winna let ye in, jo.

---

Source: [Project Gutenberg #1279 — Poems and Songs of Robert Burns](https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1279/pg1279.txt)  
Canonical HTML: https://robert-burns.com/poems/her-answer/