THO' cruel fate should bid us part,
Far as the pole and line,
Her dear idea round my heart,
Should tenderly entwine.
Tho' mountains, rise, and deserts howl,
And oceans roar between;
Yet, dearer than my deathless soul,
I still would love my Jean.
Fragment Of Song-"my Jean!"
Robert Burns
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Poem topics: fate, heart, howl, dear, soul, rise, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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