Fickle Fortune: A Fragment Poem by Robert Burns

Fickle Fortune: A Fragment



THOUGH fickle Fortune has deceived me,
She pormis'd fair and perform'd but ill;
Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,
Yet I bear a heart shall support me still.

I'll act with prudence as far 's I'm able,
But if success I must never find,
Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,
I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind.

Saturday, October 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: fortune
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Ayrshire / Scotland
Close
Error Success