Fragment—her Flwoing Locks Poem by Robert Burns

Fragment—her Flwoing Locks



HER flowing locks, the raven's wing,
Adown her neck and bosom hing;
How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her!


Her lips are roses wat wi' dew,
O' what a feast her bonie mou'!
Her cheeks a mair celestial hue,
A crimson still diviner!

Thursday, November 6, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Ayrshire / Scotland
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