Robert Burns Poems
- 251. The Lass Of Ballochmyle.
Tune - "Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."
- 252. Though Fickle Fortune Has Deceived Me,
Though fickle Fortune has deceived me,
She promis'd fair and perform'd but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,
- 253. On A Country Laird.
Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardoness,
With grateful lifted eyes, Who said that not the soul alone
- 254. A Fragment.
Tune - "John Anderson my jo."
- 255. There's Nought But Care.
Tune - "Green grow the rashes."
- 256. On A Celebrated Ruling Elder.
Here souter Hood in death does sleep;
To h--ll, if he's gane thither, Satan, gie him thy gear to keep,
- 257. The Highland Lassie.
Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddy!"
- 258. Handsome Nell.
Tune. - "I am a man unmarried."
- 259. My Jean!
Tune - "The Northern Lass."
- 260. Luckless Fortune.
O raging fortune's withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low, O! O raging fortune's withering blast
- 261. On Seeing Miss Fontenelle In A Favourite Character.
Sweet naivetë© of feature,
Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to nature,
- 262. Nannie.
Tune - "My Nannie, O."
- 263. On A Noted Coxcomb.
Light lay the earth on Willy's breast,
His chicken-heart so tender; But build a castle on his head,
- 264. Montgomery's Peggy.
Tune - "Galla-Water."
- 265. On A Wag In Mauchline.
Lament him, Mauchline husbands a',
He aften did assist ye; For had ye staid whole weeks awa,
- 266. On A Suicide.
Earth'd up here lies an imp o' hell,
Planted by Satan's dibble, Poor silly wretch, he's damn'd himsel'
- 267. The Rigs O' Barley.
Tune - "Corn rigs are bonnie."
- 268. Peggy.
Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns
- 269. Lines On Mrs. Kemble.
Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief
Of Moses and his rod; At Yarico's sweet notes of grief
- 270. Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day.
- 271. Prayer For Adam Armour.
Lord, pity me, for I am little,
An elf of mischief and of mettle, That can like ony wabster's shuttle,
- 272. Lines To John Rankine.
He who of Rankine sang lies stiff and dead,
And a green grassy hillock hides his head; Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed.
- 273. On A Person Nicknamed The Marquis.
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd;
If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.
- 274. On The Recovery Of Jessy Lewars.
But rarely seen since Nature's birth,
The natives of the sky; Yet still one seraph's left on earth,
- 275. To John Kennedy.
Farewell, dear friend! may guid luck hit you,
And 'mang her favourites admit you! If e'er Detraction shore to smit you,
- 276. Lines Written On A Window Of The Globe Tavern, Dumfries.
The greybeard, old Wisdom, may boast of his treasures,
Give me with gay Folly to live; I grant him his calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures,
- 277. A Grace Before Dinner.
O thou, who kindly dost provide
For every creature's want! We bless thee, God of Nature wide,
- 278. The True Loyal Natives.
Ye true "Loyal Natives," attend to my song,
In uproar and riot rejoice the night long; From envy or hatred your corps is exempt,
- 279. I Dream'd I Lay.
I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
- 280. The League And Covenant.
The solemn League and Covenant
Cost Scotland blood, cost Scotland tears; But it sealed freedom's sacred cause,
- 281. On John Dove, Innkeeper, Mauchline.
Here lies Johnny Pidgeon;
What was his religion? Wha e'er desires to ken,
- 282. Extempore Pinned On A Lady's Couch.
If you rattle along like your mistress's tongue,
Your speed will outrival the dart: But, a fly for your load, you'll break down on the road
- 283. Here's A Bottle And An Honest Friend!
Here's a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad you wish for mair, man? Wha kens before his life may end,
- 284. The Reproof.
Rash mortal, and slanderous Poet, thy name
Shall no longer appear in the records of fame; Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible,
- 285. On William Smellie.
Shrewd Willie Smellie to Crochallan came,
The old cock'd hat, the gray surtout, the same; His bristling beard just rising in its might,
- 286. Jessy Lewars.
Talk not to me of savages
From Afric's burning sun, No savage e'er could rend my heart
- 287. On Miss Jessy Lewars.
Say, sages, what's the charm on earth
Can turn Death's dart aside? It is not purity and worth,
- 288. Inscription. On The Headstone Of Fergusson.
ROBERT FERGUSSON, Poet. Born, September 5, 1751;
- 289. Tam, The Chapman.
As Tam the Chapman on a day,
Wi' Death forgather'd by the way, Weel pleas'd he greets a wight so famous,
- 290. Lines Written On A Window.
Ye men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering
'Gainst poor Excisemen? give the cause a hearing; What are you, landlords' rent-rolls? teasing ledgers:
- 291. The Toad-eater.
What of earls with whom you have supt,
And of dukes that you dined with yestreen? Lord! a louse, Sir, is still but a louse,
- 292. Epitaph.
Here brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct,
And empty all his barrels: He's blest, if, as he brew'd, he drink,
- 293. On Seeing The Beautiful Seat Of Lord Galloway.
What dost thou in that mansion fair?
Flit, Galloway, and find Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave,
- 294. The Highland Welcome.
When Death's dark stream I ferry o'er,
A time that surely shall come; In Heaven itself I'll ask no more
- 295. A Grace Before Meat.
O thou in whom we live and move,
Who mad'st the sea and shore, Thy goodness constantly we prove,
- 296. On The Same. (on Seeing The Beautiful Seat Of Lord Galloway.)
Bright ran thy line, O Galloway,
Thro' many a far-fam'd sire! So ran the far-fam'd Roman way,
- 297. On The Death Of A Lap-dog, Named Echo.
In wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
Your heavy loss deplore; Now half extinct your powers of song,
- 298. Spoken, On Being Appointed To The Excise.
Searching auld wives' barrels,
Och, hon! the day! That clarty barm should stain my laurels;
- 299. The Creed Of Poverty.
In politics if thou would'st mix,
And mean thy fortunes be; Bear this in mind, be deaf and blind;
- 300. The Heron Ballads. (ballad Second.)
Fy, let us a' to Kirkcudbright,