Epigram at Brownhill Inn by Robert Burns

AT 1 Brownhill we always get dainty good cheer, And plenty of bacon each day in the year; We’ve a’ thing that’s nice, and mostly in season, But why always Bacon—come, tell me a reason? Note Bacon was the name of a presumably intrusive host. The lines are said to have “afforded much amusement.”—Lang. [back] […]

Epigram Addressed to an Artist by Robert Burns

DEAR ———, I’ll gie ye some advice, You’ll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels mair, But try and paint the devil. To paint an Angel’s kittle wark, Wi’ Nick, there’s little danger: You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face, But no sae weel a stranger.—R. B. ————— The End And that’s the End […]

Elegy on Willie Nicol’s Mare by Robert Burns

PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay mare, As ever trod on airn; But now she’s floating down the Nith, And past the mouth o’ Cairn. Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, An’ rode thro’ thick and thin; But now she’s floating down the Nith, And wanting even the skin. Peg Nicholson was a good […]

Elegy on the Year 1788 by Robert Burns

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 what a pickle thou has left us! The Spanish […]

Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo by Robert Burns

LIFE ne’er exulted in so rich a prize, As Burnet, lovely from her native skies; Nor envious death so triumph’d in a blow, As that which laid th’ accomplish’d Burnet low. Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget? In richest ore the brightest jewel set! In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown, […]

Elegy on the Death of Sir James Hunter Blair by Robert Burns

THE LAMP of day, with-ill presaging glare, Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave; Th’ inconstant blast howl’d thro’ the dark’ning air, And hollow whistled in the rocky cave. Lone as I wander’d by each cliff and dell, Once the lov’d haunts of Scotia’s royal train; 1 Or mus’d where limpid streams, once hallow’d well, […]

Elegy on the Death of Robert Ruisseaux by Robert Burns

NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lair, He’ll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair; Cauld poverty, wi’ hungry stare, Nae mair shall fear him; Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care, E’er mair come near him. To tell the truth, they seldom fash’d him, Except the moment that they crush’d him; For sune as chance […]

Elegy on Stella by Robert Burns

STRAIT is the spot and green the sod From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear Inhabitant below. Pardon my transport, gentle shade, While o’er the turf I bow; Thy earthy house is circumscrib’d, And solitary now. Not one poor stone to tell thy name, Or make thy virtues known: But what […]

Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson by Robert Burns

O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi’ a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, O’er hurcheon hides, And like stock-fish come o’er his studdie Wi’ thy auld sides! He’s gane, he’s gane! he’s frae us torn, The ae best fellow e’er was born! Thee, Matthew, Nature’s sel’ shall mourn, […]

Election Ballad for Westerha’ by Robert Burns

THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie; But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King— Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie. Chorus.—Up and waur them a’, Jamie, Up and waur them a’; The Johnstones hae the guidin o’t, Ye turncoat Whigs, awa’! The day he stude […]

Duncan Gray by Robert Burns

Duncan Gray cam here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, On blythe Yule Night when we were fu’, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Maggie coost her head fu’ high, Looked asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t. Duncan fleeched, and Duncan prayed; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, […]

Dialogue Song—Philly and Willy by Robert Burns

He. O PHILLY, happy be that day, When roving thro’ the gather’d hay, My youthfu’ heart was stown away, And by thy charms, my Philly. She. O Willy, aye I bless the grove Where first I own’d my maiden love, Whilst thou did pledge the Powers above, To be my ain dear Willy. Both. For […]

Despondency: An Ode by Robert Burns

OPPRESS’D with grief, oppress’d with care, A burden more than I can bear, I set me down and sigh; O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I! Dim backward as I cast my view, What sick’ning scenes appear! What sorrows yet may pierce me through, […]

Delia: An Ode by Robert Burns

FAIR the face of orient day, Fair the tints of op’ning rose; But fairer still my Delia dawns, More lovely far her beauty shows. Sweet the lark’s wild warbled lay, Sweet the tinkling rill to hear; But, Delia, more delightful still, Steal thine accents on mine ear. The flower-enamour’d busy bee The rosy banquet loves […]

Complimentary versicles to Jessie Lewars by Robert Burns

THE TOASTFILL me with the rosy wine, Call a toast, a toast divine: Giveth me Poet’s darling flame, Lovely Jessie be her name; Then thou mayest freely boast, Thou hast given a peerless toast. THE MENAGERIETalk not to me of savages, From Afric’s burning sun; No savage e’er could rend my heart, As Jessie, thou […]

Complimentary Epigram to Mrs. Riddell by Robert Burns

“PRAISE Woman still,” his lordship roars, “Deserv’d or not, no matter?” But thee, whom all my soul adores, Ev’n Flattery cannot flatter: Maria, all my thought and dream, Inspires my vocal shell; The more I praise my lovely theme, The more the truth I tell. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem […]

Commemoration of Rodney’s Victory by Robert Burns

INSTEAD of a Song, boy’s, I’ll give you a Toast; Here’s to the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost!— That we lost, did I say?—nay, by Heav’n, that we found; For their fame it will last while the world goes round. The next in succession I’ll give you’s THE KING! Whoe’er would […]

Coming Through The Rye by Robert Burns

Coming thro’ the rye, poor body, Coming thro’ the rye, She draiglet a’ her petticoatie Coming thro’ the rye. O, Jenny’s a’ wat, poor body; Jenny’s seldom dry; She draiglet a’ her petticoatie Coming thro’ the rye. Gin a body meet a body Coming thro’ the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a […]

Caledonia: A Ballad by Robert Burns

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 hunt, or to pasture, or do what she would: Her heav’nly relations there fixed […]

Burlesque Lament fo Wm. Creech’s Absence by Robert Burns

AULD chuckie Reekie’s 1 sair distrest, Down droops her ance weel burnish’d crest, Nae joy her bonie buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo’es best— Willie’s awa! O Willie was a witty wight, And had o’ things an unco’ sleight, Auld Reekie aye he keepit tight, And trig an’ braw: But […]

Bonnie Lesley by Robert Burns

O saw ye bonnie Lesley As she gaed o’er the Border? She’s gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For Nature made her what she is, And ne’er made sic anither! Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before […]

Bonie Jean: A Ballad by Robert Burns

THERE was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie’s wark, And aye she sang sae merrilie; The blythest bird upon the bush Had ne’er a lighter heart than she. But […]

Boat Song—Hey, Ca’ Thro’ by Robert Burns

UP wi’ the carls o’ Dysart, And the lads o’ Buckhaven, And the kimmers o’ Largo, And the lasses o’ Leven. Chorus.—Hey, ca’ thro’, ca’ thro’, For we hae muckle ado. Hey, ca’ thro’, ca’ thro’, For we hae muckle ado; We hae tales to tell, An’ we hae sangs to sing; We hae pennies […]

Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787 by Robert Burns

AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter tale! Beasts of the forest have their savage homes, But He, who should imperial purple wear, Owns not the lap of earth where rests his royal […]

Ballad on the American War by Robert Burns

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 refuse our law, man. Then thro’ the lakes Montgomery takes, I […]

Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 4 by Robert Burns

WHA will buy my troggin, fine election ware, Broken trade o’ Broughton, a’ in high repair? Chorus.—Buy braw troggin frae the banks o’ Dee; Wha wants troggin let him come to me. There’s a noble Earl’s fame and high renown, For an auld sang—it’s thought the gudes were stown— Buy braw troggin, &c. Here’s the […]

Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 3 by Robert Burns

’TWAS in the seventeen hunder year O’ grace, and ninety-five, That year I was the wae’est man Of ony man alive. In March the three-an’-twentieth morn, The sun raise clear an’ bright; But oh! I was a waefu’ man, Ere to-fa’ o’ the night. Yerl Galloway lang did rule this land, Wi’ equal right and […]

Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 2 by Robert Burns

FY, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright, For there will be bickerin’ there; For Murray’s light horse are to muster, And O how the heroes will swear! And there will be Murray, Commander, And Gordon, the battle to win; Like brothers they’ll stand by each other, Sae knit in alliance and kin. And there will be […]

Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 1 by Robert Burns

WHOM will you send to London town, To Parliament and a’ that? Or wha in a’ the country round The best deserves to fa’ that? For a’ that, and a’ that, Thro’ Galloway and a’ that, Where is the Laird or belted Knight The best deserves to fa’ that? Wha sees Kerroughtree’s open yett, (And […]

Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? 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 surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a […]

Apology to Mr. Syme for not dining with him by Robert Burns

NO more of your guests, be they titled or not, And cookery the first in the nation; Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit, Is proof to all other temptation. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate […]

Another on the said Occasion by Robert Burns

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, of a diff’rent complexion, When called on to order the fun’ral direction, Would have eat […]

Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear by Robert Burns

AH, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye’ve born me: For sair contention I maun bear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne’er could lend on bill or band, That five per cent. might blest me; And borrowing, on the tither hand, The deil a ane wad trust me. Yet […]

Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever by Robert Burns

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, and then for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I’ll ne’er […]

Address to Wm. Tytler, Esq., of Woodhouselee by Robert Burns

REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart, Of Stuart, a name once respected; A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart, But now ’tis despis’d and neglected. Tho’ something like moisture conglobes in my eye, Let no one misdeem me disloyal; A poor friendless wand’rer may well claim a sigh, Still more if […]

Address to the Unco Guid by Robert Burns

O YE wha are sae guid yoursel’, Sae pious and sae holy, Ye’ve nought to do but mark and tell Your neibours’ fauts and folly! Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill, Supplied wi’ store o’ water; The heaped happer’s ebbing still, An’ still the clap plays clatter. Hear me, ye venerable core, As counsel […]

Address to the Toothache by Robert Burns

MY curse upon your venom’d stang, That shoots my tortur’d gums alang, An’ thro’ my lug gies mony a twang, Wi’ gnawing vengeance, Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang, Like racking engines! When fevers burn, or argues freezes, Rheumatics gnaw, or colics squeezes, Our neibor’s sympathy can ease us, Wi’ pitying moan; But thee—thou hell […]

Address to the shade of Thomson by Robert Burns

WHILE virgin Spring by Eden’s flood, Unfolds her tender mantle green, Or pranks the sod in frolic mood, Or tunes Eolian strains between. While Summer, with a matron grace, Retreats to Dryburgh’s cooling shade, Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace The progress of the spiky blade. While Autumn, benefactor kind, By Tweed erects his aged […]

Address to the Deil by Robert Burns

O THOU! whatever title suit thee— Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie, Wha in yon cavern grim an’ sootie, Clos’d under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cootie, To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An’ let poor damned bodies be; I’m sure sma’ pleasure it can gie, Ev’n to a deil, […]