Robert Burns Poetry

I Gaed A Waefu’ Gate Yestreen Robert Burns Poetry I gaed a waefu’ gate yestreen, A gate, I fear, I’ll dearly rue; I gat my death frae twa sweet een, Twa lovely een o’bonie blue. ‘Twas not her golden ringlets bright, Her lips like roses wat wi’ dew, Her heaving bosom, lily-white— It was her […]

Epigram On Parting With A Kind Host In The Highlands Poetry When Death’s dark stream I ferry o’er, A time that surely shall come, In Heav’n itself I’ll ask no more, Than just a Highland welcome.

On Glenriddell’s Fox Breaking His Chain Poem Robert Burns A Fragment, 1791. 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, […]

Talk Of Him That’s Far Awa Poem Musing on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying heav’n in warm devotion, For his weal where’er he be. Hope and Fear’s alternate billow Yielding late to Nature’s law, Whispering spirits round my pillow, Talk of him that’s far awa. Ye whom sorrow never wounded, […]

The Weary Pund O’ Tow Robert Burns Poetry Chorus.—The weary pund, the weary pund, The weary pund o’ tow; I think my wife will end her life, Before she spin her tow. I bought my wife a stane o’ lint, As gude as e’er did grow, And a’ that she has made o’ that Is […]

Despondency: An Ode Poetry 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 […]

On Scaring Some Water-Fowl In Loch-Turit Poem Robert Burns A wild scene among the Hills of Oughtertyre. This was the production of a solitary forenoon’s walk from OughtertyreHouse. I lived there, the guest of Sir William Murray, for two or threeweeks, and was much flattered by my hospitable reception. What a pity thatthe mere emotions […]

To A Louse, On Seeing One On A Lady’s Bonnet, At Church Poem Robert Burns Ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie? Your impudence protects you sairly; I canna say but ye strunt rarely, Owre gauze and lace; Tho’, faith! I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a place. Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner, […]

The Toadeater Robert Burns Poetry Of Lordly acquaintance you boast, And the Dukes that you dined wi’ yestreen, Yet an insect’s an insect at most, Tho’ it crawl on the curl of a Queen!

On Commissary Goldie’s Brains Poem Robert Burns Lord, to account who dares thee call, Or e’er dispute thy pleasure? Else why, within so thick a wall, Enclose so poor a treasure?