Poet Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Robert Burns Poems

  • 51.  
    O THOU, in whom we live and moveâ??
    Who made the sea and shore;Thy goodness constantly we prove,
  • 52.  
    YON wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,
    That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
  • 53.  
    HERE lies Johnie Pigeon;
    What was his religion?Whae'er desires to ken,
  • 54.  
    IT was a' for our rightfu' King
    We left fair Scotland's strand;It was a' for our rightfu' King
  • 55.  
    IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
    Your heavy loss deplore;Now, half extinct your powers of song,
  • 56.  
    Chorus.â??Robin shure in hairst,
    I shure wi' him.Fient a heuk had I,
  • 57.  
    YE hypocrites! are these your pranks?
    To murder men and give God thanks!Desist, for shame!â??proceed no further;
  • 58.  
    WHOE'ER he be that sojourns here,
    I pity much his case,Unless he comes to wait upon
  • 59.  
    SWEET closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood,
    And blythely awaukens the morrow;But the pride o' the spring in the Craigieburn Wood
  • 60.  
    O SAD and heavy, should I part,
    But for her sake, sae far awa;Unknowing what my way may thwart,
  • 61.  
    HAIL, thairm-inspirin', rattlin' Willie!
    Tho' fortune's road be rough an' hillyTo every fiddling, rhyming billie,
  • 62.  
    WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
    To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers,Then busy, busy are his hours,
  • 63.  
    WHERE hae ye been sae braw, lad?
    Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O?Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
  • 64.  
    NO churchman am I for to rail and to write,
    No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,No sly man of business contriving a snare,
  • 65.  
    MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
    Some counsel unto me come len',To anger them a' is a pity,
  • 66.  
    Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
    How can ye blume sae fair?How can ye chant, ye little birds,
  • 67.  
    Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
    Fareweel our ancient glory;Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name,
  • 68.  
    OF 1 a' the airts the wind can blaw,
    I dearly like the west,For there the bonie lassie lives,
  • 69.  
    O YE whose cheek the tear of pity stains,
    Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend! Here lie the loving husband's dear remains,
  • 70.  
    THE GLOOMY night is gath'ring fast,
    Loud roars the wild, inconstant blast,Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
  • 71.  
    MY Harry was a gallant gay,
    Fu' stately strade he on the plain;But now he's banish'd far away,
  • 72.  
    WHAT dost thou in that mansion fair?
    Flit, Galloway, and findSome narrow, dirty, dungeon cave,
  • 73.  
    REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
    Of Stuart, a name once respected;A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
  • 74.  
    1 Auld Coila now may fidge fu' fain,
    2 She's gotten poets o' her ain--3 Chiels wha their chanters winna hain,
  • 75.  
    O on the fourteenth day of February we sailed from the land
    In the bold Princess Royal bound for Newfoundland.We had forty bright sailors for our ship's companie,
  • 76.  
    I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend,
    A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither end
  • 77.  
    Fair Empress of the poet's soul,
    And Queen of poetesses; Clarinda, take this little boon,
  • 78.  
    man,
    Ae night, at tea, began a plea,Within America, man:
  • 79.  
    A Guide New-year I wish thee, Maggie!
    Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie: Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' knaggie,
  • 80.  
    Thou's welcome, wean; mishanter fa' me,
    If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mammie, Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
  • 81.  
    My Son, these maxims make a rule,
    An' lump them aye thegither; The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
  • 82.  
    I HAE a wife of my ain,
    I'll partake wi' naebody;I'll take Cuckold frae nane,
  • 83.  
    BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
    'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
  • 84.  
    din' show'r,
    Or in gulravage rinnin scowrTo pass the time,
  • 85.  
    Chorusâ??Here's a health to ane I loe dear,
    Here's a health to ane I loe dear;Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
  • 86.  
    O MERRY hae I been teethin' a heckle,
    An' merry hae I been shapin' a spoon; O merry hae I been cloutin' a kettle,
  • 87.  
    O Thou dread Power, who reign'st above,
    I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and love
  • 88.  
    Chorus:- Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
    Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom,
  • 89.  
    nth's length again:
    I see, the old bald-pated fellow,With ardent eyes, complexion sallow,
  • 90.  
    O thou! whatever title suit thee,-
    Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie!Wha in yon cavern, grim an' sootie,
  • 91.  
    BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive!
    My dearest Nancy, O fareweel!Severed frae thee, can I survive,
  • 92.  
    O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
    Of all the human race!Whose strong right hand has ever been
  • 93.  
    WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf!
    Fell source o' a' my woe and grief!For lack o' thee I've lost my lass!
  • 94.  
    Chorusâ??Fairest maid on Devon banks,
    Crystal Devon, winding Devon,Wilt thou lay that frown aside,
  • 95.  
    BLYTHE hae I been on yon hill,
    As the lambs before me;Careless ilka thought and free,
  • 96.  
    FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,
    Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
  • 97.  
    ALTHO' my bed were in yon muir,
    Amang the heather, in my plaidie;Yet happy, happy would I be,
  • 98.  
    OUT over the Forth, I look to the North;
    But what is the north and its Highlands to me?The south nor the east gie ease to my breast,
  • 99.  
    There's nane that's blest of human kind
    But the cheerful and the gay, man.
  • 100.  
    AS Tam the chapman on a day,
    Wi'Death forgather'd by the way,Weel pleas'd, he greets a wight so famous,
Total 505 poems written by Robert Burns

Poem of the day

The Dome Of Sunday
 by Karl Shapiro

With focus sharp as Flemish-painted face
In film of varnish brightly fixed
And through a polished hand-lens deeply seen,
Sunday at noon through hyaline thin air
Sees down the street,
And in the camera of my eye depicts
Row-houses and row-lives:
Glass after glass, door after door the same,
...

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