BACK to Burns to complete this week's cycle of love poems, or, rather, poems about love.

Dating to 1788, this is not perhaps among the best known of Burns's songs - but his passionate avowals (with their echoes of A Red, Red Rose) equal any in their intensity.

O, WERE I ON PARNASSUS HILL

O, were I on Parnassus Hill;

Or had o' Helicon my fill;

That I might catch poetic skill,

To sing how dear I love thee.

But Nith maun be my Muse's well,

My Muse maun be thy bonie sell;

On Corsincon I'll glowr and spell,

And write how dear I love you.

Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay!

For a' the lee-lang simmer's day,

I couldna sing, I couldna say,

How much, how dear, I love thee.

I see thee dancing o'er the green,

Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sea clean,

Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een -

By Heaven and Earth I love thee,

By night, by day, a-field, at hame,

The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame;

And ay I muse and sing thy name,

I only live to love thee.

Tho' I were doom'd to wander on,

Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,

Till my last, weary sand was run;

Till then - and then I love thee.