O poortith cauld and restless love

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O Poortith cauld, and restless love, Ye wrack my peace between ye; Yet poortith a' I could forgive An 'twere na for my Jeanie. O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Or why sae sweet a flower as love, Depend on Fortune's shining? This warld's wealth when I think on, Its pride, and a' the lave o't; My curse on silly coward man, That he should be the slave o't. O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? O why sae sweet a flower as love, Depend on Fortune's shining? Her een sae bonie blue betray, How she repays my passion; But Prudence is her o'erword ay, She talks o' rank and fashion. O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Or why sae sweet a flower as love, Depend on Fortune's shining? O wha can prudence think upon, And sic a lassie by him: O wha can prudence think upon, And sae in love as I am? O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Or why sae sweet a flower as love, Depend on Fortune's shining? How blest the wild-wood Indian's fate, He wooes his simple Dearie: The silly bogles, Wealth and State, Did never make them eerie. O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Or why sae sweet a flower as love, Depend on Fortune's shining?