Here’s to thy health (Burns/Frey) | Text

Artist
An Lár
Released
1999
  1. Here’s to thy health (Burns/Frey) | Text -:-- / -:--

Here’s To Thy Health

(Robert Burns/Frey)

Here’s to thy health, my bonie lass!
Guid night and joy be wi‘ thee!
I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door
To tell thee that I lo’e thee.
O, dinna think, my pretty pink,
But I can live without thee:
I vow and swear I dinna care
How lang ye look about ye!

Thou’rt ay sae free informing me
Thou hast nae mind to marry,
I’ll be as free informing thee
Nae time hae I to tarry.
I ken thy freens try ilka means
Frae wedlock to delay thee
(Depending on some higher chance),
But fortune may betray thee.

I ken they scorn my low estate,
But that does never grieve me,
For I’m as free as any he –
Sma‘ siller will relieve me!
I’ll count my health my greatest wealth
Sae lang as I’ll enjoy it.
I’ll fear nae scant, I’ll bode nae want
As lang’s I get employment.

But far off fowls hae feather’s fair,
And, ay until ye try them,
Tho‘ they seem fair, still have a care –
They may prove as bad as I am!
But at twel at night, when the moon shines bright,
My dear, I’ll come and see thee,
For the man that loves his mistress weel,
Nae travel makes him weary.

english translation:

Here Is To Your Health

Here is to your health, my lovely girl!
Good night and joy be with you!
I will come no more to your bower-door
To tell you that I love you.
O, do not think, my pretty pink,
But I can live without you:
I vow and swear I do not care
How long you look about you!

You are always so free informing me
You have no desire to marry,
I will be as free informing you
No time have I to tarry.
I know your friends try every means
From wedlock to delay you
(Depending on some higher chance),
But fortune may betray thee.

I know they scorn my low estate,
But that does never grieve me,
For I am as free as any he –
Small silver will relieve me!
I will count my health my greatest wealth So long as I will enjoy it.
I will fear no scant (lack), I will bode no want as long as I get employment.

But far off fowls have feather’s fair,
And, always until you try them,
Though they seem fair, still have a care
They may prove as bad as I am!
But at twelve at night, when the moon shines bright,
My dear, I will come and see you,
For the man that loves his mistress well,
No travel makes him weary.