English poem
On Chloris
by Robert Burns
Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.
From the white-blossom’d sloe my dear Chloris requested A sprig, her fair breast to adorn: No, by Heavens! I exclaim’d, let me perish, if ever I plant in that bosom a thorn!
More by Robert Burns
- On Captain Francis Grose.
- On Captain Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland, Collecting The Antiquities Of That Kingdom.
- On Captain Matthew Henderson, A Gentleman Who Held The Patent For His Honours Immediately From Almighty God.
- On Cessnock Banks.
- On Chloris Being Ill.
- On Commissary Goldie’s Brains
- On Elphinston's Translations. Of Martial's Epigrams.
- On Elphinstone’s Translation Of Martial’s Epigrams