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Home > Authors Index > Browse all available works of Robert Burns > Text of To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems, For A New-Year's Gift, Jan. 1, 1787

A poem by Robert Burns

To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems, For A New-Year's Gift, Jan. 1, 1787

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Title:     To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems, For A New-Year's Gift, Jan. 1, 1787
Author: Robert Burns [More Titles by Burns]

Again the silent wheels of time
Their annual round have driven,
And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime,
Are so much nearer Heaven.

No gifts have I from Indian coasts
The infant year to hail;
I send you more than India boasts,
In Edwin's simple tale.

Our sex with guile, and faithless love,
Is charg'd, perhaps too true;
But may, dear maid, each lover prove
An Edwin still to you.






[The end]
Robert Burns's poem: To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems, For A New-Year's Gift, Jan. 1, 1787

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