Robert Burns: I Love My Love In Secret:
I Love My Love In Secret 1789 Type: Poem My Sandy gied to me a ring, Was a’ beset wi’ diamonds fine; But I gied him a far better thing, I gied my heart in pledge o’ his ring. Chorus.-My Sandy O, my Sandy O, My bonie, bonie Sandy O; Tho’ the love that […]
Robert Burns: Jamie, Come Try Me:
Jamie, Come Try Me 1789 Type: Poem Chorus.-Jamie, come try me, Jamie, come try me, If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me. If thou should ask my love, Could I deny thee? If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me! Jamie, come try me, &c. If thou should kiss […]
Robert Burns: The Banks Of Nith:
The Banks Of Nith 1789 Type: Poem The Thames flows proudly to the sea, Where royal cities stately stand; But sweeter flows the Nith to me, Where Comyns ance had high command. When shall I see that honour’d land, That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune’s adverse hand For ever, ever […]
Robert Burns: Young Jockie Was The Blythest Lad:
Young Jockie Was The Blythest Lad 1789 Type: Poem Young Jockie was the blythest lad, In a’ our town or here awa; Fu’ blythe he whistled at the gaud, Fu’ lightly danc’d he in the ha’. He roos’d my een sae bonie blue, He roos’d my waist sae genty sma’; An’ aye my heart […]
Robert Burns: On A Bank Of Flowers:
On A Bank Of Flowers 1789 Type: Poem On a bank of flowers, in a summer day, For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the wood, Who for her favour oft had sued; He gaz’d, he wish’d He fear’d, he blush’d, And trembled […]
Robert Burns: The Gard’ner Wi’ His Paidle:
The Gard’ner Wi’ His Paidle 1789 Type: Song Tune: The Gardener’s March. When rosy May comes in wi’ flowers, To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers, Then busy, busy are his hours, The Gard’ner wi’ his paidle. The crystal waters gently fa’, The merry bards are lovers a’, The scented breezes round him blaw- The […]
Robert Burns: Delia, An Ode : “To the Editor of The Star.-Mr. Printer-If the productions of a simple ploughman can merit a place in the same paper with Sylvester Otway, and the other favourites of the Muses who illuminate the Star with the lustre of genius, your insertion of the enclosed trifle will be succeeded by future communications from-Yours, &c., R. Burns. Ellisland, near Dumfries, 18th May, 1789.”
Delia, An Ode “To the Editor of The Star.-Mr. Printer-If the productions of a simple ploughman can merit a place in the same paper with Sylvester Otway, and the other favourites of the Muses who illuminate the Star with the lustre of genius, your insertion of the enclosed trifle will be succeeded by future communications […]
Robert Burns: The Wounded Hare:
The Wounded Hare 1789 Type: Poem Inhuman man! curse on thy barb’rous art, And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye; May never pity soothe thee with a sigh, Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart! Go live, poor wand’rer of the wood and field! The bitter little that of life remains: No more the thickening […]
Robert Burns: Sketch In Verse: Inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox.
Sketch In Verse Inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox.1789 Type: Sketch How wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite, How Virtue and Vice blend their black and their white, How Genius, th’ illustrious father of fiction, Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction, I sing: If these mortals, the critics, should bustle, I care […]
Robert Burns: A New Psalm For The Chapel Of Kilmarnock: On the Thanksgiving-Day for His Majesty’s Recovery.
A New Psalm For The Chapel Of Kilmarnock On the Thanksgiving-Day for His Majesty’s Recovery.1789 Type: Poem O sing a new song to the Lord, Make, all and every one, A joyful noise, even for the King His restoration. The sons of Belial in the land Did set their heads together; Come, let us sweep […]
Robert Burns: Epistle To James Tennant Of Glenconner:
Epistle To James Tennant Of Glenconner 1789 Type: Epistle Auld comrade dear, and brither sinner, How’s a’ the folk about Glenconner? How do you this blae eastlin wind, That’s like to blaw a body blind? For me, my faculties are frozen, My dearest member nearly dozen’d. I’ve sent you here, by Johnie Simson, Twa […]
Robert Burns: Ode On The Departed Regency Bill:
Ode On The Departed Regency Bill 1789 Type: Ode Daughter of Chaos’ doting years, Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade (The rights of sepulture now duly paid) Spread abroad its hideous form On the roaring civil storm, Deafening din and warring rage Factions wild with factions wage; Or […]
Robert Burns: Beware O’ Bonie Ann:
Beware O’ Bonie Ann 1789 Type: Poem Ye gallants bright, I rede you right, Beware o’ bonie Ann; Her comely face sae fu’ o’ grace, Your heart she will trepan: Her een sae bright, like stars by night, Her skin sae like the swan; Sae jimply lac’d her genty waist, That sweetly ye might […]
Robert Burns: To Miss Cruickshank, a very Young Lady : Written on the Blank Leaf of a Book, presented to her by the Author.
To Miss Cruickshank, a very Young Lady Written on the Blank Leaf of a Book, presented to her by the Author.1789 Type: Poem Beauteous Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may’st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! Never Boreas’ hoary path, Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath, Never baleful stellar lights, […]
Robert Burns: Caledonia -A Ballad :
Caledonia -A Ballad 1789 Type: Song Tune: “Caledonian Hunts’ Delight” of Mr. Gow 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, (Who knows not that brave Caledonia’s divine?) From Tweed to the Orcades was her domain, To […]
Robert Burns: Lines To John M’Murdo, Esq. Of Drumlanrig: Sent with some of the Author’s Poems.
Lines To John M’Murdo, Esq. Of Drumlanrig Sent with some of the Author’s Poems.1789 Type: Poem O could I give thee India’s wealth, As I this trifle send; Because thy joy in both would be To share them with a friend. But golden sands did never grace The Heliconian stream; Then take what gold could […]
Robert Burns: Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell: On Returning a Newspaper.
Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell On Returning a Newspaper.1789 Type: Impromptu Your News and Review, sir. I’ve read through and through, sir, With little admiring or blaming; The Papers are barren Of home-news or foreign, No murders or rapes worth the naming. Our friends, the Reviewers, Those chippers and hewers, Are judges of mortar and […]
Robert Burns: She’s Fair And Fause:
She’s Fair And Fause 1789 Type: song 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, And I may e’en gae hang. A coof cam in wi’ routh o’ gear, And I hae tint my dearest dear; But Woman is but […]
Robert Burns: Sappho Redivivus: Fragment
Sappho Redivivus Fragment1789 Type: Poem By all I lov’d, neglected and forgot, No friendly face e’er lights my squalid cot; Shunn’d, hated, wrong’d, unpitied, unredrest, The mock’d quotation of the scorner’s jest! Ev’n the poor support of my wretched life, Snatched by the violence of legal strife. Oft grateful for my very daily bread To […]
Robert Burns: Pegasus At Wanlockhead:
Pegasus At Wanlockhead 1789 Type: Poem With Pegasus upon a day, Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey lay, On foot the way was plying. Poor slipshod giddy Pegasus Was but a sorry walker; To Vulcan then Apollo goes, To get a frosty caulker. Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Threw by his coat […]
Robert Burns: Ode, Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald Of Auchencruive:
Ode, Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald Of Auchencruive 1789 Type: Ode Dweller in yon dungeon dark, Hangman of creation! mark, Who in widow-weeds appears, Laden with unhonour’d years, Noosing with care a bursting purse, Baited with many a deadly curse? Strophe View the wither’d Beldam’s face; Can thy keen inspection trace Aught […]
Robert Burns: Robin Shure In Hairst:
Robin Shure In Hairst 1789 Type: Poem Chorus.-Robin shure in hairst, I shure wi’ him. Fient a heuk had I, Yet I stack by him. I gaed up to Dunse, To warp a wab o’ plaiden, At his daddie’s yett, Wha met me but Robin: Robin shure, &c. Was na Robin bauld, Tho’ I […]
Robert Burns: Versicles On Sign-Posts :
Versicles On Sign-Posts 1788 Type: Poem His face with smile eternal drest, Just like the Landlord’s to his Guest’s, High as they hang with creaking din, To index out the Country Inn. He looked just as your sign-post Lions do, With aspect fierce, and quite as harmless too. A head, pure, sinless quite of […]
Robert Burns: The Henpecked Husband:
The Henpecked Husband 1788 Type: Poem 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, Who has not sixpence but in her possession; Who must to he, his dear friend’s secrets tell, Who dreads a curtain lecture worse […]
Robert Burns: Elegy On The Year 1788:
Elegy On The Year 1788 1788 Type: Elegy For lords or kings I dinna mourn, E’en let them die-for that they’re born: But oh! prodigious to reflec’! A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck! O Eighty-eight, in thy sma’ space, What dire events hae taken place! Of what enjoyments thou hast reft us! In […]
Robert Burns: The Poet’s Progress : A Poem In Embryo
The Poet’s Progress A Poem In Embryo1788 Type: Poem Thou, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, The horned bull, tremendous, spurns the ground; The lordly lion has enough and more, The forest trembles at his very roar; Thou giv’st the ass his […]
Robert Burns: Written In Friars Carse Hermitage: On Nithside
Written In Friars Carse Hermitage On Nithside1788 Type: Poem Thou whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these counsels on thy soul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night,-in darkness lost; Hope not sunshine ev’ry hour, Fear not clouds will always […]
Robert Burns: The Parting Kiss:
The Parting Kiss 1788 Type: Poem Humid seal of soft affections, Tenderest pledge of future bliss, Dearest tie of young connections, Love’s first snowdrop, virgin kiss! Speaking silence, dumb confession, Passion’s birth, and infant’s play, Dove-like fondness, chaste concession, Glowing dawn of future day! Sorrowing joy, Adieu’s last action, (Lingering lips must now disjoin), […]
Robert Burns: My Bonie Mary:
My Bonie Mary 1788 Type: Poem Go, fetch to me a pint o’ wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink before I go, A service to my bonie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Leith; Fu’ loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry; The ship rides by […]
Robert Burns: Auld Lang Syne:
Auld Lang Syne 1788 Type: Poem Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne! Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp! And […]
Robert Burns: It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face:
It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face 1788 Type: Poem It is na, Jean, thy bonie face, Nor shape that I admire; Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace Might weel awauk desire. Something, in ilka part o’ thee, To praise, to love, I find, But dear as is thy form to me, Still dearer […]
Robert Burns: I Reign In Jeanie’s Bosom:
I Reign In Jeanie’s Bosom 1788 Type: Poem Louis, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean? Dyvor, beggar louns to me, I reign in Jeanie’s bosom! Let her crown my love her law, And in her breast enthrone me, Kings and nations-swith awa’! Reif randies, I disown ye! ————- Home Robert […]
Robert Burns: The Fall Of The Leaf:
The Fall Of The Leaf 1788 Type: Poem The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill; How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear! As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year. The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, And all the gay foppery […]
Robert Burns: A Mother’s Lament For the Death of Her Son.:
A Mother’s Lament For the Death of Her Son. 1788 Type: Poem Fate gave the word, the arrow sped, And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops, In dust dishonour’d laid; So fell the pride of all my […]
Robert Burns: O, Were I On Parnassus Hill:
O, Were I On Parnassus Hill 1788 Type: Song Tune: My love is lost to me. O, were I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee! But Nith maun be my Muse’s well, My Muse maun be thy bonie […]
Robert Burns: The Day Returns:
The Day Returns 1788 Type: Song Tune: Seventh of November. The day returns, my bosom burns, The blissful day we twa did meet: Tho’ winter wild in tempest toil’d, Ne’er summer-sun was half sae sweet. Than a’ the pride that loads the tide, And crosses o’er the sultry line; Than kingly robes, than crowns […]
Robert Burns: Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry: Requesting a Favour
Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry Requesting a Favour1788 Type: Epistle When Nature her great master-piece design’d, And fram’d her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, She form’d of various parts the various Man. Then first she calls the useful many forth; Plain plodding Industry, and […]
Robert Burns: The Fete Champetre:
The Fete Champetre 1788 Type: Song Tune: Killiecrankie. O Wha will to Saint Stephen’s House, To do our errands there, man? O wha will to Saint Stephen’s House O’ th’ merry lads of Ayr, man? Or will we send a man o’ law? Or will we send a sodger? Or him wha led o’er […]
Robert Burns: Anna, Thy Charms:
Anna, Thy Charms 1788 Type: Song Anna, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair, To hope may be forgiven; For sure ’twere impious to despair So much in sight of heaven. ————- Home Robert […]
Robert Burns: To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer: Ellisland, Nithsdale, July 27th, 1788.
To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer Ellisland, Nithsdale, July 27th, 1788.1788 Type: Poem My godlike friend-nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But God is love, the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like. And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at Anna? Others may boast a partial flame, But […]