Robert Burns Poems

  • 901.  
    REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
    Of Stuart, a name once respected;A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
  • 902.  
    WHAT dost thou in that mansion fair?
    Flit, Galloway, and findSome narrow, dirty, dungeon cave,
  • 903.  
    MY Harry was a gallant gay,
    Fu' stately strade he on the plain;But now he's banish'd far away,
  • 904.  
    THE GLOOMY night is gath'ring fast,
    Loud roars the wild, inconstant blast,Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
  • 905.  
    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,
  • 906.  
    OF 1 a' the airts the wind can blaw,
    I dearly like the west,For there the bonie lassie lives,
  • 907.  
    Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
    Fareweel our ancient glory;Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name,
  • 908.  
    Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
    How can ye blume sae fair?How can ye chant, ye little birds,
  • 909.  
    MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
    Some counsel unto me come len',To anger them a' is a pity,
  • 910.  
    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,
  • 911.  
    WHERE hae ye been sae braw, lad?
    Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O?Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
  • 912.  
    WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
    To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers,Then busy, busy are his hours,
  • 913.  
    HAIL, thairm-inspirin', rattlin' Willie!
    Tho' fortune's road be rough an' hillyTo every fiddling, rhyming billie,
  • 914.  
    O SAD and heavy, should I part,
    But for her sake, sae far awa;Unknowing what my way may thwart,
  • 915.  
    SWEET closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood,
    And blythely awaukens the morrow;But the pride o' the spring in the Craigieburn Wood
  • 916.  
    WHOE'ER he be that sojourns here,
    I pity much his case,Unless he comes to wait upon
  • 917.  
    YE hypocrites! are these your pranks?
    To murder men and give God thanks!Desist, for shame!â??proceed no further;
  • 918.  
    Chorus.â??Robin shure in hairst,
    I shure wi' him.Fient a heuk had I,
  • 919.  
    IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
    Your heavy loss deplore;Now, half extinct your powers of song,
  • 920.  
    IT was a' for our rightfu' King
    We left fair Scotland's strand;It was a' for our rightfu' King
  • 921.  
    HERE lies Johnie Pigeon;
    What was his religion?Whae'er desires to ken,
  • 922.  
    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,
  • 923.  
    O THOU, in whom we live and moveâ??
    Who made the sea and shore;Thy goodness constantly we prove,
  • 924.  
    THERE was once a day, but old Time wasythen young,
    That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line,From some of your northern deities sprung,
  • 925.  
    Nae lark in transport mounts the sky
    Or leaves wi' early plaintive cry,But I will bid a last good-bye,
  • 926.  
    Chorus.â??She is a winsome wee thing,
    She is a handsome wee thing,She is a lo'esome wee thing,
  • 927.  
    I hae seen the hairst o' Rettie, lads,
    And twa-three aff the throne.I've heard o sax and seven weeks
  • 928.  
    INHUMAN man! curse on thy barb'rous art,
    And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye;May never pity soothe thee with a sigh,
  • 929.  
    O A' ye pious godly flocks,
    Weel fed on pastures orthodox,Wha now will keep you frae the fox,
  • 930.  
    IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles,
    The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a';Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess,
  • 931.  
    WHAT needs this din about the town o' Lon'on,
    How this new play an' that new sang is comin?Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?
  • 932.  
    LIGHT lay the earth on Billy's breast,
    His chicken heart so tender;But build a castle on his head,
  • 933.  
    WILL ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
    And leave auld Scotia's shore?Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
  • 934.  
    'TWAS on a Monday morning,
    Right early in the year,That Charlie came to our town,
  • 935.  
    Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows,
    'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
  • 936.  
    HERE'S to thy health, my bonie lass,
    Gude nicht and joy be wi' thee;I'll come nae mair to thy bower-door,
  • 937.  
    It was a' for our rightfu' King
    We left fair Scotland's strand;It was a' for our rightfu' King
  • 938.  
    O were my Love yon lilac fair,
    Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,And I a bird to shelter there,
  • 939.  
    Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,
    An' fill it in a silver tassie,That I may drink, before I go,
  • 940.  
    Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
    I dearly like the west,For there the bonnie lassie lives,
  • 941.  
    Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
    Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnie rows,
  • 942.  
    Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
    How can ye bloom sae fair!How can ye chant, ye little birds,
  • 943.  
    On Turning her up in her Nest with the Plough

  • 944.  

  • 945.  

  • 946.  
    O, wilt thou go wi' me,
    Sweet Tibbie Dunbar?O, wilt thou go wi' me,
  • 947.  
    A note of seeming truth and trust
    Hid crafty observation; And secret hung, with poison'd crust,
  • 948.  

  • 949.  
    A Tale

  • 950.  
    My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
    Some counsel unto me come len';To anger them a' is a pity,
Total 973 poems written by Robert Burns

Poem of the day

A. E. Housman Poem
White In The Moon The Long Road Lies
 by A. E. Housman

White in the moon the long road lies,
The moon stands blank above;
White in the moon the long road lies
That leads me from my love.

Still hangs the hedge without a gust,
Still, still the shadows stay:
My feet upon the moonlit dust

Read complete poem

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