Robert Burns: Tarbolton Lasses, The:
Tarbolton Lasses, The 1771-1779 Type: Poem If ye gae up to yon hill-tap, Ye’ll there see bonie Peggy; She kens her father is a laird, And she forsooth’s a leddy. There Sophy tight, a lassie bright, Besides a handsome fortune: Wha canna win her in a night, Has little art in courtin’. Gae down […]
Robert Burns: Epitaph On Holy Willie:
Epitaph On Holy Willie 1785 Type: Epitaph Here Holy Willie’s sair worn clay Taks up its last abode; His saul has ta’en some other way, I fear, the left-hand road. Stop! there he is, as sure’s a gun, Poor, silly body, see him; Nae wonder he’s as black’s the grun, Observe wha’s standing wi’ […]
Robert Burns: Holy Willie’s Prayer: “And send the godly in a pet to pray.” – Pope.
Holy Willie’s Prayer “And send the godly in a pet to pray.” – Pope.1785 Type: Poem Argument. Holy Willie was a rather oldish bachelor elder, in the parish of Mauchline, and much and justly famed for that polemical chattering, which ends in tippling orthodoxy, and for that spiritualized bawdry which refines to liquorish devotion. In […]
Robert Burns: Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet:
Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet 1785 Type: Epistle January While winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw, An’ hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, An’ spin a verse or twa o’ rhyme, In hamely, westlin jingle. While frosty winds blaw in […]
Robert Burns: The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie: An Unco Mournfu’ Tale
The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie An Unco Mournfu’ Tale 1784 Type: Poem “Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor, But fool with fool is barbarous civil war,” Pope O a’ ye pious godly flocks, Weel fed on pastures orthodox, Wha now will keep you frae the fox, Or worrying tykes? Or wha will tent […]
Robert Burns: Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge:
Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge 1784 Type: Dirge When chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spied a man, whose aged step Seem’d weary, worn with care; His face furrow’d o’er with years, And hoary was his hair. […]
Robert Burns: Lines On The Author’s Death: Written With The Supposed View Of Being Handed To Rankine After The Poet’s Interment
Lines On The Author’s Death Written With The Supposed View Of Being Handed To Rankine After The Poet’s Interment 1784 Type: Poem He who of Rankine sang, lies stiff and dead, And a green grassy hillock hides his head; Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed. ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from […]
Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Rankine:
Epitaph On John Rankine 1784 Type: Epitaph Ae day, as Death, that gruesome carl, Was driving to the tither warl’ A mixtie-maxtie motley squad, And mony a guilt-bespotted lad- Black gowns of each denomination, And thieves of every rank and station, From him that wears the star and garter, To him that wintles in […]
Robert Burns: On Tam The Chapman:
On Tam The Chapman 1784 Type: Poem As Tam the chapman on a day, Wi’Death forgather’d by the way, Weel pleas’d, he greets a wight so famous, And Death was nae less pleas’d wi’ Thomas, Wha cheerfully lays down his pack, And there blaws up a hearty crack: His social, friendly, honest heart Sae […]
Robert Burns: Another [Epigram On The Said Occasion… On A Henpecked Country Squire]:
Another [Epigram On The Said Occasion… On A Henpecked Country Squire] 1784 Type: Epigram One Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell, When deprived of her husband she loved so well, In respect for the love and affection he show’d her, She reduc’d him to dust and she drank up the powder. But Queen Netherplace, […]
Robert Burns: Epigram On The Said Occasion [On A Henpecked Country Squire]:
Epigram On The Said Occasion [On A Henpecked Country Squire] 1784 Type: Epigram O Death, had’st thou but spar’d his life, Whom we this day lament, We freely wad exchanged the wife, And a’ been weel content. Ev’n as he is, cauld in his graff, The swap we yet will do’t; Tak thou the […]
Robert Burns: Tragic Fragment:
Tragic Fragment 1771-1779 Type: Poem All devil as I am-a damned wretch, A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain, Still my heart melts at human wretchedness; And with sincere but unavailing sighs I view the helpless children of distress: With tears indignant I behold the oppressor Rejoicing in the honest man’s destruction, Whose unsubmitting heart was […]
Robert Burns: On A Henpecked Country Squire:
On A Henpecked Country Squire 1784 Type: Epitaph As father Adam first was fool’d, (A case that’s still too common,) Here lies man a woman ruled, The devil ruled the woman. ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from Scotland Poetry by subject Poems by author and category Parallel translations, the parallel […]
Robert Burns: On A Noisy Polemic:
On A Noisy Polemic 1784 Type: Epitaph Below thir stanes lie Jamie’s banes; O Death, it’s my opinion, Thou ne’er took such a bleth’rin bitch Into thy dark dominion! ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from Scotland Poetry by subject Poems by author and category Parallel translations, the parallel world of […]
Robert Burns: The Belles Of Mauchline:
The Belles Of Mauchline 1784 Type: Poem 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, In Lon’on or Paris, they’d gotten it a’. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland’s divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss […]
Robert Burns: My Girl She’s Airy: Fragment
My Girl She’s Airy Fragment1784 Type: Song Tune: Black Jock. 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: She’s always good natur’d, good humour’d, and free; She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me; I never am […]
Robert Burns: The Mauchline Lady: Fragment
The Mauchline Lady Fragment1784 Type: Song Tune: I had a horse, I had nae mair. When first I came to Stewart Kyle, My mind it was na steady; Where’er I gaed, where’er I rade, A mistress still I had aye. But when I came roun’ by Mauchline toun, Not dreadin anybody, My heart was caught, […]
Robert Burns: O Leave Novels:
O Leave Novels 1784 Type: Song O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles, Ye’re safer at your spinning-wheel; Such witching books are baited hooks For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel; Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons, They make your youthful fancies reel; They heat your brains, and fire your veins, And then you’re prey for […]
Robert Burns: A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter: The First Instance That Entitled Him To The Venerable Appellation Of Father
A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter The First Instance That Entitled Him To The Venerable Appellation Of Father1784 Type: Poem Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa’ me, If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy mamie, Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My bonie lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’ me Tyta […]
Robert Burns: Epistle To John Rankine: Enclosing Some Poems
Epistle To John Rankine Enclosing Some Poems1784 Type: Epistle O Rough, rude, ready-witted Rankine, The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drinkin! There’s mony godly folks are thinkin, Your dreams and tricks Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin Straught to auld Nick’s. Ye hae saw mony cracks an’ cants, And in your wicked, drucken rants, Ye […]
Robert Burns: Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine: On His Writing To The Poet, That A Girl In That Part Of The Country Was With A Child To Him.
Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine On His Writing To The Poet, That A Girl In That Part Of The Country Was With A Child To Him.1784 Type: Reply I am a keeper of the law In some sma’ points, altho’ not a’; Some people tell me gin I fa’, Ae way or ither, […]
Robert Burns: Ballad On The American War:
Ballad On The American War 1784 Type: Song Tune: Killiecrankie. When Guilford good our pilot stood An’ did our hellim thraw, man, Ae night, at tea, began a plea, Within America, man: Then up they gat the maskin-pat, And in the sea did jaw, man; An’ did nae less, in full congress, Than quite […]
Robert Burns Country: In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer:
In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer 1771-1779 Type: Song Tune: Go from my window, Love, do. The sun he is sunk in the west, All creatures retired to rest, While here I sit, all sore beset, With sorrow, grief, and woe: And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! The prosperous man is asleep, Nor […]
Robert Burns: On My Ever Honoured Father:
On My Ever Honoured Father 1784 Type: Epitaph 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, The tender father, and the gen’rous friend; The pitying heart that felt for human woe, The dauntless heart that fear’d no human pride; […]
Robert Burns: On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill:
On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill 1784 Type: Epitaph An honest man here lies at rest As e’er God with his image blest; The friend of man, the friend of truth, The friend of age, and guide of youth: Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d, Few […]
Robert Burns: On James Grieve, Laird Of Boghead, Tarbolton :
On James Grieve, Laird Of Boghead, Tarbolton 1784 Type: Epitaph Here lies Boghead amang the dead In hopes to get salvation; But if such as he in Heav’n may be, Then welcome, hail! damnation. ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from Scotland Poetry by subject Poems by author and category Parallel […]
Robert Burns: Epitaph On Wm. Hood, Senr., In Tarbolton:
Epitaph On Wm. Hood, Senr., In Tarbolton 1784 Type: Epitaph Here Souter Hood in death does sleep; To hell if he’s gane thither, Satan, gie him thy gear to keep; He’ll haud it weel thegither. ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from Scotland Poetry by subject Poems by author and category […]
Robert Burns: Remorse: Fragment
Remorse Fragment1784 Type: Poem Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish Beyond comparison the worst are those By our own folly, or our guilt brought on: In ev’ry other circumstance, the mind Has this to say, “It was no deed of mine:” But, […]
Robert Burns: Wha Is That At My Bower-Door:
Wha Is That At My Bower-Door 1783 Type: Song Tune: Lass, an I come near thee. “Wha is that at my bower-door?” “O wha is it but Findlay!” “Then gae your gate, ye’se nae be here:” “Indeed maun I,” quo’ Findlay; “What mak’ ye, sae like a thief?” “O come and see,” quo’ Findlay; […]
Robert Burns: Green Grow The Rashes: A Fragment
Green Grow The Rashes A Fragment1783 Type: Song Chor. – Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e’er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O. There’s nought but care on ev’ry han’, In ev’ry hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o’ man, An’ ’twere na […]
Robert Burns: My Nanie, O:
My Nanie, O 1783 Type: Song Tune: My Nanie, O. Behind yon hills where Lugar flows, ‘Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nanie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud an’ shill; The night’s baith mirk and rainy, O; But I’ll get my plaid […]
Robert Burns: Song Composed In August:
Song Composed In August 1783 Type: Song Tune: I had a horse, I had nae mair. Now westlin winds and slaught’ring guns Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring wings Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o’er the plain, Delights the weary farmer; And the moon shines bright, when I […]
Robert Burns: The Rigs O’ Barley:
The Rigs O’ Barley 1783 Type: Song Tune: Corn Rigs are bonie. It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light, I held awa to Annie; The time flew by, wi’ tentless heed, Till, ‘tween the late and early, Wi’ sma’ persuasion she agreed To see me […]
Robert Burns: I Dream’d I Lay:
I Dream’d I Lay 1771-1779 Type: Song I dream’d I lay where flowers were springing Gaily in the sunny beam; List’ning to the wild birds singing, By a falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and daring; Thro’ the woods the whirlwinds rave; Tress with aged arms were warring, O’er the swelling drumlie […]
Robert Burns: Poor Mailie’s Elegy:
Poor Mailie’s Elegy 1783 Type: Elegy Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi’ saut tears trickling down your nose; Our bardie’s fate is at a close, Past a’ remead! The last, sad cape-stane o’ his woes; Poor Mailie’s dead! It’s no the loss o’ warl’s gear, That could sae bitter draw the tear, Or […]
Robert Burns: Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The. An Unco Mournfu’ Tale:
Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The. An Unco Mournfu’ Tale 1783 Type: Poem As Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch: There, groaning, dying, she did lie, When […]
Robert Burns: John Barleycorn: A Ballad :
John Barleycorn: A Ballad 1782 Type: Poem There was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and plough’d him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn was […]
Robert Burns: My Father Was A Farmer:
My Father Was A Farmer 1782 Type: Song Tune: The weaver and his shuttle, O. My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O, And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O; He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O; For without an honest manly […]
Robert Burns: A Stanza Added In A Mason Lodge:
A Stanza Added In A Mason Lodge 1782 Type: Poem Then fill up a bumper and make it o’erflow, And honours masonic prepare for to throw; May ev’ry true Brother of the Compass and Square Have a big-belly’d bottle when harass’d with care. ————- Home Robert Burns Collection Fledermausi’s Poetry Page Poetry from Scotland […]
Robert Burns: No Churchman Am I:
No Churchman Am I 1782 Type: Song Tune: Prepare, my dear Brethren, to the tavern let’s fly. 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, For a big-belly’d bottle’s the whole of my care. The […]