Robert Burns Poetry

DEATH AND DR. HORNBOOK. A TRUE STORY. John Wilson, raised to the unwelcome elevation of hero to this poem, was, at the time of its composition, schoolmaster in Tarbolton: he as, it is said, a fair scholar, and a very worthy man, but vain of his knowledge in medicine–so vain, that he advertised his merits, […]

Apology For Declining An Invitation To Dine Poem No more of your guests, be they titled or not, And cookery the first in the nation; Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit, Is proof to all other temptation.

Sketch In Verse Poetry Inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox. 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, […]

O May, Thy Morn Poem Robert Burns O may, thy morn was ne’er so sweet As the mirk night o’ December! For sparkling was the rosy wine, And private was the chamber: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember: And dear was she I dare na name, But I […]

Robert Burns Poem Farewell Thou Stream Air— Nansie’s to the greenwood gane. Farewell, thou stream that winding flows Around Eliza’s dwelling; O mem’ry! spare the cruel thoes Within my bosom swelling. Condemn’d to drag a hopeless chain And yet in secret languish; To feel a fire in every vein, Nor dare disclose my anguish. Love’s […]

My Love, She’s But A Lassie Yet Poem Robert Burns My love, she’s but a lassie yet, My love, she’s but a lassie yet; We’ll let her stand a year or twa, She’ll no be half sae saucy yet; I rue the day I sought her, O! I rue the day I sought her, O! […]

Ode For General Washington’s Birthday Poem Robert Burns No Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Aeolian I awake; ‘Tis liberty’s bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take! See gathering thousands, while I sing, A broken chain exulting bring, And dash it in a tyrant’s face, And dare him to his very […]

Address To The Unco Guid, Or The Rigidly Righteous Poem My Son, these maxims make a rule, An’ lump them aye thegither; The Rigid Righteous is a fool, The Rigid Wise anither: The cleanest corn that ere was dight May hae some pyles o’ caff in; So ne’er a fellow-creature slight For random fits o’ […]

Robert Burns – Lines On The Author’s Death Poem Written With The Supposed View Of Being Handed To Rankine After The Poet’s Interment He who of Rankine sang, lies stiff and dead, And a green grassy hillock hides his head; Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed.

It Was A’ For Our Rightfu’ King Robert Burns Poetry It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We left fair Scotland’s strand; It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We e’er saw Irish land, my dear, We e’er saw Irish land. Now a’ is done that men can do, And a’ is done in vain; […]