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Behold, My Love, How Green the Groves
por
Robert Burns
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Behold, my love, how green the groves The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers And wave thy flowing hair The lav'rock shuns the palace gay And o'er the cottage sings: For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween To Shepherds as to Kings Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string In lordly lighted ha': The Shepherd stops his simple reed Blythe in the birken shaw The Princely revel may survey Our rustic dance wi' scorn; But are their hearts as light as ours Beneath the milk-white thorn! The shepherd, in the flowery glen; In shepherd's phrase, will woo: The courtier tells a finer tale But is his heart as true! These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck That spotless breast o' thine: The courtiers' gems may witness love But, 'tis na love like mine
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