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首页Poems and Songs of Robert Burns The Winter It Is Past

The Winter It Is Past

    the winter it is past
    the winter it is past, and the summer comes at last
    and the small birds, they sing on ev'ry tree;
    now ev'ry thing is glad, while i am very sad,
    since my true love is parted from me.
    the rose upon the breer, by the waters running clear,
    may have charms for the linnet or the bee;
    their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest,
    but my true love is parted from me.


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