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FETE CHAMPETRE (Robert Burns) O, wha will to Saint Stephen`s House, To do our errands there, man? O, wha will to Saint Stephen`s House O, th` merry lads of Ayr, man? Or will ye send a man-o-law? Or will ye send a sodger? Or him wha led o`er Scotland a` The meikle Ursa-Major? Come, will ye court a noble lord, Or buy a score o` lairds, man? For Worth and Honour pawn their word. Their vote shall be Glencaird`s, man. Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine, Anither gies them clatter; Anbank, wha guess`d the ladies` taste, He gies a Fete Champetre. When Love and Beauty heard the news The gay green-woods amang, man, Where, gathering flowers, and busking bowers, They heard the blackbird`s sang, man: A vow, they seal`d it with a kiss, Sir Polities to fetter: As their alone, the patent bliss, To hold a Fete Champetre. Then mounted Mirth on gleesome wing, O`er hill and dale she flew, man; Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring, Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man She summon`d every social sprite, That sports by wood or water, On th` bonie banks of Ayr to meet, And keep this Fete Champetre. Cauld Boreas, wi his boisterous crew Were bound to stakes like kye, man; And Cynthia`s ear, o silver fu, Clamb up the starry sky, man: Reflected beams dwell in the streams, Or down the current shatter; The western breeze steals through the trees To view this Fete Champetre. How many a robe sae gaily floats, What sparkling jewels glance, man, To harmony`s enchanting notes, As moves the mazy dance, man! The echoing wood, the winding flood, Like Paradise did glitter, When angels met at Adam`s yett To hold their Fete Champetre. When Politics came there, to mix And make his ether-stane, man, He circled round the magic ground, But entrance found he nane, man: He blush`d for shame, he quat his name, Forswore it, every letter, Wi humble prayer to join and share This festive Fete Champetre. tune:Killicrankie (313) filename[FCHMPTRE play.exe FCHMPTRE ARB ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===
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