Robert Burns

O Raging Fortune’s Withering Blast

O raging Fortune’s withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low! O
O raging Fortune’s withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low! O
My stem was fair my bud was green
My blossom sweet did blow; O
The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild,
And made my branches grow; O
But luckless Fortune’s northern storms
Laid a’ my blossoms low, O
But luckless Fortune’s northern storms
Laid a’ my blossoms low, O.
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