Robert Burns Poems

On A Suicide Poem Robert Burns Earth’d up, here lies an imp o’ hell, Planted by Satan’s dibble; Poor silly wretch, he’s damned himsel’, To save the Lord the trouble.

The Highland Widow’s Lament Robert Burns Poetry Oh I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Without a penny in my purse, To buy a meal to me. It was na sae in the Highland hills, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Nae woman in the Country wide, Sae happy was as me. For then I […]

THE INVENTORY; IN ANSWER TO A MANDATE BY THE SURVEYOR OF THE TAXES. We have heard of a poor play-actor who, by a humorous inventory of his effects, so moved the commissioners of the income tax, that they remitted all claim on him then and forever; we know not that this very humorous inventory of […]

A Grace Before Dinner, Extempore Poem O thou who kindly dost provide For every creature’s want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wide, For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly Guide, May never worse be sent; But, whether granted, or denied, Lord, bless us with content. Amen!

On Andrew Turner Poem Robert Burns In se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine, The deil gat stuff to mak a swine, An’ coost it in a corner; But wilily he chang’d his plan, An’ shap’d it something like a man, An’ ca’d it Andrew Turner.

Robert Burns Poem Fickle Fortune: A Fragment Though fickle Fortune has deceived me, She pormis’d fair and perform’d but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav’d me, Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. I’ll act with prudence as far ‘s I’m able, But if success I must never find, Then come misfortune, […]

Robert Burns – Lament For James, Earl Of Glencairn Poem The wind blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun’s departing beam Look’d on the fading yellow woods, That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail’d his lord, Whom Death […]

Robert Burns Poem Epitaph For Mr. Walter Riddell Sic a reptile was Wat, sic a miscreant slave, That the worms ev’n damn’d him when laid in his grave; In his flesh there’s a famine, a starved reptile cries, And his heart is rank poison! another replies.

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars Poetry The Toast Fill 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 Menagerie Talk not to me of savages, From Afric’s burning sun; No savage […]

Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation Poem Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name, Sae fam’d in martial story. Now Sark rins over Solway sands, An’ Tweed rins to the ocean, To mark where England’s province stands— Such a parcel of rogues in a […]