Anna, Thy Charms

By Robert Burns

Yestreen I had a pint o' wine,

    A place where body saw na;

Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine

    The gowden locks of Anna.

The hungry Jew in wilderness

    Rejoicing o'er his manna

Was naething to my hiney bliss

    Upon the lips of Anna.

Ye Monarchs take the East and West

    Frae Indus to Savannah:

Gie me within my straining grasp

    The melting form of Anna!

There I'll despise Imperial charms,

    An empress or sultana,

While dying raptures in her arms,

    I give an' take wi' Anna!

Awa, thou flaunting God of Day!

    Awa, thou pale Diana!

Ilk star, gae hide thy twinkling ray,

    When I'm to meet my Anna!

Come, in thy raven plumage, Night

    (Sun, Moon, and Stars, withdrawn a')

And bring an Angel-pen to write

    My transports with my Anna!

The Kirk an State may join, an tell

    To do sic things I maunna:

The Kirk an State may gae to Hell,

    And I'll gae to my Anna.

She is the sunshine o' my e'e,

    To live but her I canna:

Had I on earth but wishes three,

    The first should be my Anna.