Robert Burns Poetry

O Can Ye Labour Lea? Poem Robert Burns Chorus—O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountith shall us twine Gin ye can labour lea. I fee’d a man at Michaelmas, Wi’ airle pennies three; But a’ the faut I had to him, He could na labour lea, […]

The Slave’s Lament Robert Burns Poetry It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,—ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I […]

Robert Burns – Lines To John M’Murdo, Esq. Of Drumlanrig Poem Sent with some of the Author’s Poems. O could I give thee India’s wealth, As I this trifle send; Because thy joy in both would be To share them with a friend. But golden sands did never grace The Heliconian stream; Then take what […]

Nithsdale’s Welcome Hame Poem Robert Burns The noble Maxwells and their powers Are coming o’er the border, And they’ll gae big Terreagles’ towers And set them a’ in order. And they declare Terreagles fair, For their abode they choose it; There’s no a heart in a’ the land But’s lighter at the news o’t. Tho’ […]

The Lament Robert Burns Poetry Occasioned by the unfortunate issue of a Friend’s Amour. Alas! how oft does goodness would itself, And sweet affection prove the spring of woe! Home. O thou pale orb that silent shines While care-untroubled mortals sleep! Thou seest a wretch who inly pines. And wanders here to wail and weep! […]

The Fall Of The Leaf Poem The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill; How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear! As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year. The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, And all the gay foppery of summer is […]

Robert Burns Poem Epistle To The Rev. John M’math Sept. 13, 1785. Inclosing A Copy Of Holy Willie’s Prayer, Which He Had Requested, Sept. 17, 1785 While at the stook the shearers cow’r To shun the bitter blaudin’ show’r, Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In […]

Robert Burns Poem Stanzas On Naething Extempore Epistle to Gavin Hamilton, Esq. To you, sir, this summons I’ve sent, Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing; But if you demand what I want, I honestly answer you—naething. Ne’er scorn a poor Poet like me, For idly just living and breathing, While people of every degree […]

Robert Burns Poem Extemporaneous Effusion On being appointed to an Excise division. Searching auld wives’ barrels, Ochon the day! That clarty barm should stain my laurels: But—what’ll ye say? These movin’ things ca’d wives an’ weans, Wad move the very hearts o’ stanes!

Robert Bruce’s March To Bannockburn Poetry 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 […]