OF a' the airts the wind can blaw, <br /> I dearly like the west, <br />For there the bonnie lassie lives, <br /> The lassie I lo'e best: <br />There wild woods grow, and rivers row, <br /> And monie a hill between; <br />But day and night my fancy's flight <br /> Is ever wi' my Jean. <br /> <br />I see her in the dewy flowers, <br /> I see her sweet and fair: <br />I hear her in the tunefu' birds, <br /> I hear her charm the air: <br />There 's not a bonnie flower that springs <br /> By fountain, shaw, or green; <br />There 's not a bonnie bird that sings, <br /> But minds me o' my Jean.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jean/
