Robert Burn's Night Poem

[ismenin]

Tonight is Burn's Night, upon which eve Scottish poetry is spouted, bagpipes are blown, haggis eaten and huge amounts of liquor consumed.

This is my offering: It's Rab Burn's poem - To Delia. Altered of course, to suit moi. :D

Fair the face of Orient day,
Fair the tints of op'ning rose;
Fairer still my Lijah dawns
More lovely far his beauty shows.

Sweet the lark's wild warbled lay,
Sweet the tinkling rill to hear;
But, Lijah, more delightful still,
Steal thine accents on mine ear.

The flower-enamour'd busy bee
The rosy banquet loves to sip;
Sweet the streamlet's limpid lapse
To the sun-brown'd Arab's lip.

But, Lijah, on thy balmy lips
Let me, no vagrant insect, rove;
O, let me steal one liquid kiss,
For Oh! my soul is parch'd with love.