They Speak o' Wiles

They speak o' wiles in woman's smiles,
An' ruin in her e'e;
I ken they bring a pang at whiles
That 's unco sair to dree;
But mind ye this, the half-ta'en kiss,
The first fond fa'in' tear,
Is, heaven kens, fu' sweet amends,
An' tints o' heaven here.

When two leal hearts in fondness meet,
Life's tempests howl in vain;
The very tears o' love are sweet
When paid with tears again.
Shall hapless prudence shake its pow,
Shall cauldrife caution fear,
Oh, dinna, dinna droun the lowe,
That lichts a heaven here!

What though we 're ca'd a wee before
The stale "three score an' ten,"
When Joy keeks kindly at your door,
Aye bid her welcome ben.
About yon blissfu' bowers above
Let doubtfu' mortals speir;
Sae weel ken we that "heaven is love,"
Since love makes heaven here.