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 […]

Song—A Waukrife Minnie by Robert Burns

WHARE are you gaun, my bonie lass, Whare are you gaun, my hinnie? She answered me right saucilie, “An errand for my minnie.” O whare live ye, my bonie lass, O whare live ye, my hinnie? “By yon burnside, gin ye maun ken, In a wee house wi’ my minnie.” But I foor up the […]

Song—A Rose-bud by my Early Walk by Robert Burns

A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet […]

Song—A Man’s a Man for a’ that by Robert Burns

IS there for honest Poverty That hings his head, an’ a’ that; The coward slave-we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that! For a’ that, an’ a’ that. Our toils obscure an’ a’ that, The rank is but the guinea’s stamp, The Man’s the gowd for a’ that. What though on hamely […]

Song—A Lass wi’ a Tocher by Robert Burns

AWA’ wi’ your witchcraft o’ Beauty’s alarms, The slender bit Beauty you grasp in your arms, O, gie me the lass that has acres o’ charms, O, gie me the lass wi’ the weel-stockit farms. Chorus.—Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher; Then hey, for a […]

Song—A Health to them that’s awa by Robert Burns

HERE’S a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa; And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause, May never gude luck be their fa’! It’s gude to be merry and wise, It’s gude to be honest and true; It’s gude to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the buff […]

Song—A Health to ane I loe dear by Robert Burns

Chorus—Here’s a health to ane I loe dear, Here’s a health to ane I loe dear; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear—Jessy. ALTHO’ thou maun never be mine, Altho’ even hope is denied; ’Tis sweeter for thee despairing, Than ought in the world beside—Jessy. Here’s […]

Song—A Fiddler in the North by Robert Burns

AMANG the trees, where humming bees, At buds and flowers were hinging, O, Auld Caledon drew out her drone, And to her pipe was singing, O: ’Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspeys, and Reels, She dirl’d them aff fu’ clearly, O: When there cam’ a yell o’ foreign squeels, That dang her tapsalteerie, O. Their capon craws […]

Song—A Bottle and Friend by Robert Burns

HERE’S a bottle and an honest friend! What wad ye wish for mair, man? Wha kens, before his life may end, What his share may be o’ care, man? Then catch the moments as they fly, And use them as ye ought, man: Believe me, happiness is shy, And comes not aye when sought, man. […]

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, […]