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Of All the Directions

Of all the directions the wind can blow, I dearly love the west
It’s there a beautiful lass lives, the lass that I love best
Where wildwoods grow and rivers run and many’s the hill between
Both day and night my fancy’s flight is ever with my Jean1
 
I see her in the dewy flowers so fragrant, fresh, and fair
I hear her voice in every bird whose music charms the air
There’s not a beautiful flower that springs by fountain, grove, or stream
Nor yet a pretty bird that sings, but it reminds me of my Jean
 
So blow, you westerly winds, blow softly among your leafy glens
Your gentle gale over moor and dale, blow to that place you know
And bring the lass there back to me who’s oh so fresh and clean
There’s none I’d put above her, she’s my own, my beautiful Jean
 
What sighs and vows among those knolls have passed between us two
So feign to meet, so sad to part before she should go away
The powers above can only know to whom my heart’s been given
There’s none I’ll take before her, she’s my own, my beautiful Jean
 
Of all the directions the wind can blow, I dearly love the west
It’s there a beautiful lass lives, the lass that I love best
Where wildwoods grow and rivers run and many’s the hill between
Both day and night my fancy’s flight is ever with my Jean
 

• 1. Robert Burn’s wife, Jean Amour.