My Heart was Ance (Poem by Robert Burns)

Old Poem

My Heart was Ance (1)
By Robert Burns


My heart was ance as blythe and free
    As simmer days were lang,
But a bonnie, westlin weaver lad
    Has gart me change my sang.
        To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,
            To the weavers gin ye go;
        I rede you right gang ne’er at night,
            To the weavers gin ye go.


My Heart was Ance (2)


My mither sent me to the town,
    To warp a plaiden wab;
But the weary, weary warpin o’t
    Has gart me sigh and sab.


My Heart was Ance (3)


A bonnie westlin weaver lad,
    Sat working at his loom;
He took my heart as wi’ a net,
    In every knot and thrum.


My Heart was Ance (4)


I sat beside my warpin-wheel,
    And ay I ca’d it roun’;
But every shot and every knock,
    My heart it gae a stoun.


My Heart was Ance (5)


The moon was sinking in the west
    Wi’ visage pale and wan,
As my bonnie westlin weaver lad
    Convoy’d me thro’ the glen.


My Heart was Ance (6)


But what was said, or what was done,
    Shame fa’ me gin I tell;
But, oh! I fear the kintra soon
    Will ken as weel’s mysel.
        To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,
            To the weavers gin ye go;
        I rede you right gang ne’er at night,
            To the weavers gin ye go.

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