Explore "Anna, Thy Charms" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Anna, thy charms my bosom fire, / And waste my soul with care; / But ah! how bootless to admire, / When fated to despair!
Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair, / To hope may be forgiven; / For sure 'twere impious to despair / So much in sight of heaven.