Robert Burns Poems

  • 651.  
    CURS'D be the man, the poorest wretch in life,
    The crouching vassal to a tyrant wife! Who has no will but by her high permission,
  • 652.  
    STRAIT is the spot and green the sod
    From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear
  • 653.  
    FOR thee is laughing Nature gay,
    For thee she pours the vernal day; For me in vain is Nature drest,
  • 654.  
    STAY my charmer, can you leave me?
    Cruel, cruel to deceive me; Well you know how much you grieve me;
  • 655.  
    ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,
    And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire,
  • 656.  
    THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
    That he from our lassies should wander awa'; For he's bonie and braw, weel-favor'd witha',
  • 657.  
    There was three kings unto the east,
    Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath
  • 658.  
    'Husband, husband, cease your strife,
    Nor longer idly rave, Sir; Tho' I am your wedded wife
  • 659.  
    THE SOLEMN League and Covenant
    Now brings a smile, now brings a tear; But sacred Freedom, too, was theirs:
  • 660.  
    Tune - "Invercauld's Reel, or Strathspey."
    Choir. - O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
  • 661.  
    SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
    Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, 'mid his surly reign,
  • 662.  
    DAUGHTER of Chaos' doting years,
    Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade
  • 663.  
    O POORTITH cauld, and restless love,
    Ye wrack my peace between ye; Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
  • 664.  
    'TWAS in the seventeen hunder year
    O' grace, and ninety-five, That year I was the wae'est man
  • 665.  
    O, were my love yon lilac fair
    Wi' purple blossoms to the spring, And I a bird to shelter there,
  • 666.  
    Chorus.â??O lovely Polly Stewart,
    O charming Polly Stewart, There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
  • 667.  
    Chorusâ??Mally's meek, Mally's sweet,
    Mally's modest and discreet; Mally's rare, Mally's fair,
  • 668.  
    O THOU pale orb that silent shines
    While care-untroubled mortals sleep! Thou seest a wretch who inly pines.
  • 669.  
    O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
    O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
  • 670.  
    BRAW, braw lads on Yarrow-braes,
    They rove amang the blooming heather; But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws
  • 671.  
    THE LADDIES by the banks o' Nith
    Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a', Jamie; But he'll sair them, as he sair'd the Kingâ??
  • 672.  
    WHEN Princes and Prelates,
    And hot-headed zealots, A' Europe had set in a low, a low,
  • 673.  
    O DEATH, had'st thou but spar'd his life,
    Whom we this day lament, We freely wad exchanged the wife,
  • 674.  
    Amang the trees, where humming bees,
    At buds and flowers were hinging, O, Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
  • 675.  
    O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody!
    The meikle devil wi' a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie,
  • 676.  
    AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods
    The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds,
  • 677.  
    O MIRK, mirk is this midnight hour,
    And loud the tempest's roar; A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,
  • 678.  
    TO you, sir, this summons I've sent,
    Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing; But if you demand what I want,
  • 679.  
    LAMENT him, Mauchline husbands a',
    He aften did assist ye; For had ye staid hale weeks awa,
  • 680.  
    THERE was five Carlins in the South,
    They fell upon a scheme, To send a lad to London town,
  • 681.  
    MY Sandy gied to me a ring,
    Was a' beset wi' diamonds fine; But I gied him a far better thing,
  • 682.  
    ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789.WOW, but your letter made me vauntie!
    And are ye hale, and weel and cantie? I ken'd it still, your wee bit jauntie
  • 683.  
    O HAD each Scot of ancient times
    Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art; The bravest heart on English ground
  • 684.  
    HERE cursing, swearing Burton lies,
    A buck, a beau, or "Dem my eyes!" Who in his life did little good,
  • 685.  
    FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal,
    Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal; Alake, alake, the meikle deil
  • 686.  
    Talk not of love, it gives me pain,
    For love has been my foe; He bound me in an iron chain,
  • 687.  
    Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
    Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket; The rose upon the breir will be him trews anâ?? doublet,
  • 688.  
    STILL anxious to secure your partial favour,
    And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever, A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter,
  • 689.  
    WITH Pegasus upon a day,
    Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey lay,
  • 690.  
    1 It was a' for our rightful king
    2 That we left fair Scotland's strand; 3 It was a' for our rightful king
  • 691.  
    ITHERS seek they ken na what,
    Features, carriage, and a' that; Gie me love in her I court,
  • 692.  
    On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells,
    Could I describe her shape and mien! Our lasses a' she far excels---
  • 693.  
    WHEN, by a generous Public's kind acclaim,
    That dearest meed is grantedâ??honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor's lot,
  • 694.  
    THINE am I, my faithful Fair,
    Thine, my lovely Nancy; Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
  • 695.  
    RIGHT, sir! your text I'll prove it true,
    Tho' heretics may laugh; For instance, there's yourself just now,
  • 696.  
    YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires,
    Wha represent our brughs an' shires, An' doucely manage our affairs
  • 697.  
    Chorus.â??You're welcome, Willie Stewart,
    You're welcome, Willie Stewart, There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
  • 698.  
    1 Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
    2 Ca' them where the heather grows 3 Ca' them where the burnie rows,
  • 699.  
    FAREWEEL to a' our Scottish fame,
    Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name,
  • 700.  
    NOW westlin winds and slaught'ring guns
    Bring Autumn's pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring wings
Total 973 poems written by Robert Burns

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John Keats Poem
A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion)
 by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
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