Robert Burns Poetry

To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer Poem Robert Burns Ellisland, Nithsdale, July 27th, 1788. My godlike friend—nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But God is love, the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like. And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at Anna? Others may boast a partial flame, […]

Jamie, Come Try Me Robert Burns Poetry Chorus.—Jamie, come try me, Jamie, come try me, If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me. If thou should ask my love, Could I deny thee? If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me! Jamie, come try me, &c. If thou should kiss me, […]

A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter Poem [Footnote 1: Burns never published this poem.] The First Instance That Entitled Him To The Venerable Appellation Of Father Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa’ me, If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy mamie, Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My bonie lady, Or if I blush […]

Robert Burns – Lines To An Old Sweetheart Poem Once fondly lov’d, and still remember’d dear, Sweet early object of my youthful vows, Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere, Friendship! ’tis all cold duty now allows. And when you read the simple artless rhymes, One friendly sigh for him—he asks no more, Who, distant, […]

Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The Poetry An Unco Mournfu’ Tale As Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch: There, groaning, dying, she did lie, When Hughoc he cam […]

Robert Burns – Mr. William Smellie A Sketch Poem Shrewd Willie Smellie to Crochallan came; The old cock’d hat, the grey surtout the same; His bristling beard just rising in its might, ‘Twas four long nights and days to shaving night: His uncomb’d grizzly locks, wild staring, thatch’d A head for thought profound and clear, […]

The Epitaph Poem Here lies, now a prey to insulting neglect, What once was a butterfly, gay in life’s beam: Want only of wisdom denied her respect, Want only of goodness denied her esteem.

Inscription At Friars’ Carse Hermitage Robert Burns Poetry To the Memory of Robert Riddell. To Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr’er, dost value matchless worth? This ivied cot revere.

Ca’ The Yowes To The Knowes Second Version Poetry Chorus.—Ca’the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonie Dearie. Hark the mavis’ e’ening sang, Sounding Clouden’s woods amang; Then a-faulding let us gang, My bonie Dearie. Ca’ the yowes, &c. We’ll gae down by Clouden […]

A PRAYER IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. I have heard the third verse of this very moving Prayer quoted by scrupulous men as a proof that the poet imputed his errors to the Being who had endowed him with wild and unruly passions. The meaning is very different: Burns felt the torrent-strength of passion overpowering […]