A Portrait of Robert Burns Robert Burns

1795 · Poem

Her Answer


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.4

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.8
The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,That round the pathless wand’rer poursIs nocht to what poor she endures,That’s trusted faithless man, jo.12

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.16
The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,Now trodden like the vilest weed—Let simple maid the lesson readThe weird may be her ain, jo.20

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.24
The bird that charm’d his summer day,Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;Let witless, trusting, Woman sayHow aft her fate’s the same, jo!28

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.32
Year
1795
Form
Poem
Location
Dumfries
Source
Project Gutenberg #1279 — Poems and Songs of Robert Burns