English poem
To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems For A New Year'S Gift. Jan. 1, 1787.
by Robert Burns
Again the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driv'n, And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heav'n. No gifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail: I send you more than India boasts In Edwin's simple tale. Our sex with guile and faithless love Is charg'd, perhaps, too true; But may, dear maid, each lover prove An Edwin still to you!
More by Robert Burns
- To Mary In Heaven.
- To Mary.
- To Miss Cruikshank, A Very Young Lady. Written On The Blank Leaf Of A Book, Presented To Her By The Author.
- To Miss Jessy Lewars, Dumfries. With Johnson'S 'Musical Museum.'
- To Mr. M'Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan.
- To Mr. Syme.
- To Mr. Syme. With A Present Of A Dozen Of Porter.
- To Mrs. Scott, Of Wauchope.