Poet Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Robert Burns Poems

  • 201.  
    Chorus.â??Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
    Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,I wad wear thee in my bosom,
  • 202.  
    An' ye wha leather rax an' draw,Of a' denominations;
  • 203.  
    WE cam na here to view your warks,
    In hopes to be mair wise,But only, lest we gang to hell,
  • 204.  
    Is there for honesty poverty
    That hings his head, an' a' that; The coward slave - we pass him by,
  • 205.  
    The sun lies clasped in amber cloud
    Half hidden in the sea,And o'er the sands the flowing tide
  • 206.  
    BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive;
    Thou goest, the darling of my heart;Sever'd from thee, can I survive,
  • 207.  
    ires and the fall of Kings;
    While quacks of State must each produce his plan,And even children lisp the Rights of Man;
  • 208.  
    THE SUN he is sunk in the west,
    All creatures retir?¸d to rest,While here I sit, all sore beset,
  • 209.  
    O THOU dread Power, who reign'st above,
    I know thou wilt me hear,When for this scene of peace and love,
  • 210.  
    Chorus.â??Carle, an the King come,
    Carle, an the King come,Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
  • 211.  
    O LORD, when hunger pinches sore,
    Do thou stand us in stead,And send us, from thy bounteous store,
  • 212.  
    SHE'S fair and fause that causes my smart,
    I lo'ed her meikle and lang;She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart,
  • 213.  
    Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
    And blythe awakens the morrow,But a' the pride o' spring's return
  • 214.  
    Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e;
    Lang lang Joy's been a stranger to me: Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
  • 215.  
    DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw,
    That Scot to Scot did carry;And dire the discord Langside saw
  • 216.  
    O WHY the deuce should I repine,
    And be an ill foreboder?I'm twenty-three, and five feet nine,
  • 217.  
    FRAE the friends and land I love,
    Driv'n by Fortune's felly spite;Frae my best belov'd I rove,
  • 218.  
    SENSIBILITY, how charming,
    Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell;But distress, with horrors arming,
  • 219.  
    Expect na, sir, in this narration,
    A fleechin, fleth'rin Dedication, To roose you up, an' ca' you guid,
  • 220.  
    MY girl she's airy, she's buxom and gay;
    Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;A touch of her lips it ravishes quite:
  • 221.  
    THERE'S news, lassies, news,
    Gude news I've to tell!There's a boatfu' o' lads
  • 222.  
    Now spring has clad the grove in green,
    And strew'd the lea wi' flowers;The furrow'd, waving corn is seen
  • 223.  
    KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief
    For Moses and his rod;At Yarico's sweet nor of grief
  • 224.  
    The man, in life wherever plac'd,
    Hath happiness in store,Who walks not in the wicked's way,
  • 225.  
    When Januar' wind was blawing cauld,
    As to the north I took my way, The mirksome night did me enfauld,
  • 226.  
    THE SMILING Spring comes in rejoicing,
    And surly Winter grimly flies;Now crystal clear are the falling waters,
  • 227.  
    The wintry west extends his blast,
    And hail and rain does blaw;Or the stormy north sends driving forth
  • 228.  
    Is there a whim-inspired fool,
    Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
  • 229.  
    "PRAISE Woman still," his lordship roars,
    "Deserv'd or not, no matter?"But thee, whom all my soul adores,
  • 230.  
    Chorus.â??O mount and go, mount and make you ready,
    O mount and go, and be the Captain's lady.
  • 231.  
    O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause
    Of all my hope and fear!In whose dread presence, ere an hour,
  • 232.  
    n an' drinkin!
    There's mony godly folks are thinkin,Your dreams and tricks
  • 233.  
    IN Politics if thou would'st mix,
    And mean thy fortunes be;Bear this in mind, be deaf and blind,
  • 234.  
    HERE lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd,
    If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.
  • 235.  
    O I've walked o'er yon countries baith early and late
    Among Airlin's braw lasses I've had mony a lang seat.Comin' hame in the mornins, fin I should have been at ease
  • 236.  
  • 237.  
  • 238.  
    A Tale
    "Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke." Gawin Douglas.
  • 239.  
    'TIS Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend,
    Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend
  • 240.  
    AULD chuckie Reekie's 1 sair distrest,
    Down droops her ance weel burnish'd crest, Nae joy her bonie buskit nest
  • 241.  
    Among the heathy hills and ragged woods
    The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds,
  • 242.  
    Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay
    Taks up its last abode; His saul has ta'en some other way,
  • 243.  
    WHEN first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
    He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown; But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
  • 244.  
    FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn,
    E'en let them die-for that they're born: But oh! prodigious to reflec'!
  • 245.  
    Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear!
    Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, Ye Jacobites by name,
  • 246.  
    THROUGH and through th' inspir'd leaves,
    Ye maggots, make your windings; But O respect his lordship's taste,
  • 247.  
    O WILLIE 1 brew'd a peck o' maut,
    And Rob and Allen cam to see; Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
  • 248.  
    HERE lie Willie Michie's banes;
    O Satan, when ye tak him, Gie him the schulin o' your weans,
  • 249.  
    IN this strange land, this uncouth clime,
    A land unknown to prose or rhyme; Where words ne'er cross't the Muse's heckles,
  • 250.  
    MARK yonder pomp of costly fashion
    Round the wealthy, titled bride: But when compar'd with real passion,
Total 505 poems written by Robert Burns

Poem of the day

A March Day In London
 by Amy Levy

The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,
And sends a fever through all the veins.

From end to end, with aimless feet,

Read complete poem

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