Sketch—New Year’s Day, 1790 by Robert Burns
THIS day, Time winds th’ exhausted chain; To run the twelvemonth’s length again: I see, the old bald-pated fellow, With ardent eyes, complexion sallow, Adjust the unimpair’d machine, To wheel the equal, dull routine. The absent lover, minor heir, In vain assail him with their prayer; Deaf as my friend, he sees them press, Nor […]
Sketch in Verse, inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox by Robert Burns
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 not, not I—let the Critics go whistle! But now for a Patron whose […]
Second Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry by Robert Burns
LATE crippl’d of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected, and deprest (Nature is adverse to a cripple’s rest); Will generous Graham list to his Poet’s wail? (It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale) And hear him curse the light he first […]
Second Epistle to J. Lapraik by Robert Burns
WHILE new-ca’d kye rowte at the stake An’ pownies reek in pleugh or braik, This hour on e’enin’s edge I take, To own I’m debtor To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik, For his kind letter. Forjesket sair, with weary legs, Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, Or dealing thro’ amang the naigs Their ten-hours’ bite, My awkart […]
Second Epistle to Davie by Robert Burns
AULD NEIBOUR,I’m three times doubly o’er your debtor, For your auld-farrant, frien’ly letter; Tho’ I maun say’t I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, Lang may your elbuck jink diddle, To cheer you thro’ the weary […]
Scots, Wha Hae Wi’ Wallace Bled by Robert Burns
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; See the front o’ battle lour, See approach proud Edward’s power— Chains and slavery! Wha will be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward’s grave? Wha sae base […]
Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland by Robert Burns
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? Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported? Is there nae poet, burning keen for fame, Will try to gie us sangs and plays at hame? For Comedy abroad he […]
Sappho Redivivus: A Fragment by Robert Burns
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 súpport of my wretched life, Snatched by the violence of legal strife. Oft grateful for my very daily bread To those my family’s once large […]
Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn (Song) by Robert Burns
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; See the front o’ battle lour; See approach proud Edward’s power— Chains and Slaverie! Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward’s grave? Wha sae […]
Rhyming Reply to a Note from Captain Riddell by Robert Burns
DEAR SIR, at ony time or tide, I’d rather sit wi’ you than ride, Though ’twere wi’ royal Geordie: And trowth, your kindness, soon and late, Aft gars me to mysel’ look blate— The Lord in Heav’n reward ye!R. BURNS.ELLISLAND. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by […]
Reply to the Threat of a Censorious Critic by Robert Burns
WITH Esop’s lion, Burns says: Sore I feel Each other’s scorn, but damn that ass’ heel! ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library of poetic works. Here you’ll find […]
Reply to an Announcement by J. Rankine by Robert Burns
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, The breaking of ae point, tho’ sma’, Breaks a’ thegither. I hae been in for’t ance or twice, And winna say o’er far for thrice; Yet never met wi’ that […]
Reply to a Trimming Epistle, received from a Tailor by Robert Burns
WHAT ails ye now, ye lousie bitch To thresh my back at sic a pitch? Losh, man! hae mercy wi’ your natch, Your bodkin’s bauld; I didna suffer half sae much Frae Daddie Auld. What tho’ at times, when I grow crouse, I gie their wames a random pouse, Is that enough for you to […]
Remorseful Apology by Robert Burns
THE FRIEND whom, wild from Wisdom’s way, The fumes of wine infuriate send, (Not moony madness more astray) Who but deplores that hapless friend? Mine was th’ insensate frenzied part, Ah! why should I such scenes outlive? Scenes so abhorrent to my heart!— ’Tis thine to pity and forgive. ————— The End And that’s the […]
Remorse: A Fragment by Robert Burns
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, when to all the […]
Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh by Robert Burns
WHEN, by a generous Public’s kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted—honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor’s lot, Nor even the man in private life forgot; What breast so dead to heavenly Virtue’s glow, But heaves impassion’d with the grateful throe? Poor is the task to please a barb’rous throng, It needs […]
Prologue spoken at the Theatre of Dumfries by Robert Burns
NO song nor dance I bring from yon great city, That queens it o’er our taste—the more’s the pity: Tho’ by the bye, abroad why will you roam? Good sense and taste are natives here at home: But not for panegyric I appear, I come to wish you all a good New Year! Old Father […]
Prayer—O Thou Dread Power by Robert Burns
O THOU dread Power, who reign’st above, I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and love, I make this prayer sincere. The hoary Sire—the mortal stroke, Long, long be pleas’d to spare; To bless this little filial flock, And show what good men are. She, who her lovely offspring eyes […]
Poor Mailie’s Elegy by Robert Burns
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 mak our bardie, dowie, wear The mourning […]
Poem on Sensibility by Robert Burns
SENSIBILITY, how charming, Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress, with horrors arming, Thou alas! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily Blooming in the sunny ray: Let the blast sweep o’er the valley, See it prostrate in the clay. Hear the wood lark charm the forest, Telling o’er his little joys; But […]
Pegasus at Wanlockhead by Robert Burns
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 and bonnet, And did Sol’s business in […]
Paraphrase of the First Psalm by Robert Burns
THE MAN, in life wherever plac’d, Hath happiness in store, Who walks not in the wicked’s way, Nor learns their guilty lore! Nor from the seat of scornful pride Casts forth his eyes abroad, But with humility and awe Still walks before his God. That man shall flourish like the trees, Which by the streamlets […]
One Night as I did Wander by Robert Burns
ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me, And bicker’d to the seas; A cushat crooded o’er me, That echoed through the braes ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, […]
On the late Captain Grose’s Peregrinations by Robert Burns
HEAR, Land o’ Cakes, and brither Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat’s;— If there’s a hole in a’ your coats, I rede you tent it: A chield’s amang you takin notes, And, faith, he’ll prent it: If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat fodgel wight, O’ stature short, but genius […]
On the Death of Robert Dundas, Esq., of Arniston by Robert Burns
LONE on the bleaky hills the straying flocks Shun the fierce storms among the sheltering rocks; Down from the rivulets, red with dashing rains, The gathering floods burst o’er the distant plains; Beneath the blast the leafless forests groan; The hollow caves return a hollow moan. Ye hills, ye plains, ye forests, and ye caves, […]
On the Death of John M’Leod, Esq. by Robert Burns
SAD thy tale, thou idle page, And rueful thy alarms: Death tears the brother of her love From Isabella’s arms. Sweetly deckt with pearly dew The morning rose may blow; But cold successive noontide blasts May lay its beauties low. Fair on Isabella’s morn The sun propitious smil’d; But, long ere noon, succeeding clouds Succeeding […]
On the Birth of a Posthumous Child by Robert Burns
SWEET flow’ret, pledge o’ meikle love, And ward o’ mony a prayer, What heart o’ stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, and fair? November hirples o’er the lea, Chill, on thy lovely form: And gane, alas! the shelt’ring tree, Should shield thee frae the storm. May He who gives the rain to pour, […]
On Tam the Chapman by Robert Burns
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 tickled Death, they could na part; Sae, after […]
On seeing Mrs. Kemble in Yarico by Robert Burns
KEMBLE, thou cur’st my unbelief For Moses and his rod; At Yarico’s sweet nor of grief The rock with tears had flow’d. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]
On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Lock Turit by Robert Burns
WHY, ye tenants of the lake, For me your wat’ry haunt forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures, why At my presence thus you fly? Why disturb your social joys, Parent, filial, kindred ties?— Common friend to you and me, yature’s gifts to all are free: Peaceful keep your dimpling wave, Busy feed, or wanton lave; Or, beneath […]
On Glenriddell’s Fox breaking his chain: A Fragment by Robert Burns
THOU, Liberty, thou art my theme; Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddess That a fantastic cap and rod has; Such stale conceits are poor and silly; I paint thee out, a Highland filly, A sturdy, stubborn, handsome dapple, As sleek’s a mouse, as round’s an apple, That when […]
On Elphinstone’s Translation of Martial’s Epigrams by Robert Burns
O THOU whom Poetry abhors, Whom Prose has turnèd out of doors, Heard’st thou yon groan?—proceed no further, ’Twas laurel’d Martial calling murther. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual […]
On Chloris requesting a sprig of blossom’d thorn by Robert Burns
FROM the white-blossom’d sloe my dear Chloris requested A sprig, her fair breast to adorn: No, by Heavens! I exclaim’d, let me perish, if ever I plant in that bosom a thorn! ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate […]
Oh Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast by Robert Burns
Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee; Or did misfortune’s bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a’, to share it a’. Or were I in the […]
Ode, Sacred to the Memory of Mrs. Oswald of Auchencruive by Robert Burns
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 of Humanity’s sweet, melting grace? Note that eye, ’tis rheum o’erflows; Pity’s flood there […]
Ode on the Departed Regency Bill by Robert Burns
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 under-ground, deep-sunk, profound, Among the demons of the earth, With […]
Ode for General Washington’s Birthday by Robert Burns
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Æolian I awake; ’Tis liberty’s bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take! See gathering thousands, while I sing, A broken chain exulting bring, And dash it in a tyrant’s face, And dare him to his very beard, And tell him he no more is […]
Note to Mr. Renton of Lamerton by Robert Burns
YOUR billet, Sir, I grant receipt; Wi’ you I’ll canter ony gate, Tho’ ’twere a trip to yon blue warl’, Whare birkies march on burning marl: Then, Sir, God willing, I’ll attend ye, And to his goodness I commend ye.R. BURNS ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems […]
Nature’s Law: A Poem by Robert Burns
LET other heroes boast their scars, The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa’ the fun, wi’ sword and gun To slap mankind like lumber! I sing his name, and nobler fame, Wha multiplies our number. Great Nature spoke, with air benign, “Go on, […]
My Highland Lassie, O by Robert Burns
NAE gentle dames, tho’ e’er sae fair, Shall ever be my muse’s care: Their titles a’ arc empty show; Gie me my Highland lassie, O. Chorus.—Within the glen sae bushy, O, Aboon the plain sae rashy, O, I set me down wi’ right guid will, To sing my Highland lassie, O. O were yon hills […]