Robert Burns Poetry

The Last Time I Came O’er The Moor Robert Burns Poetry The last time I came o’er the moor, And left Maria’s dwelling, What throes, what tortures passing cure, Were in my bosom swelling: Condemn’d to see my rival’s reign, While I in secret languish; To feel a fire in every vein, Yet dare not […]

The Country Lass Poem In simmer, when the hay was mawn, And corn wav’d green in ilka field, While claver blooms white o’er the lea And roses blaw in ilka beild! Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel, Says— I’ll be wed, come o’t what will : Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild; O’ gude […]

The Winter Of Life Robert Burns Poetry But lately seen in gladsome green, The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing flowers In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled On winter blasts awa; Yet maiden May, in rich array, Again shall bring them a’. But my white pow, nae […]

Robert Burns Poem Epitaph On Holy Willie Here Holy Willie’s sair worn clay Taks up its last abode; His saul has ta’en some other way, I fear, the left-hand road. Stop! there he is, as sure’s a gun, Poor, silly body, see him; Nae wonder he’s as black’s the grun, Observe wha’s standing wi’ him. […]

To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, Poem Robert Burns Recommending a Boy. Mossgaville, May 3, 1786. I hold it, sir, my bounden duty To warn you how that Master Tootie, Alias, Laird M’Gaun, Was here to hire yon lad away ‘Bout whom ye spak the tither day, An’ wad hae don’t aff han’; But lest he […]

Charlie, He’s My Darling Poetry ‘Twas on a Monday morning, Right early in the year, That Charlie came to our town, The young Chevalier. Chorus—An’ Charlie, he’s my darling, My darling, my darling, Charlie, he’s my darling, The young Chevalier. As he was walking up the street, The city for to view, O there he […]

Epigram On Seeing Miss Fontenelle In A Favourite Character Poetry Sweet naivete of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to Nature, Thou art acting but thyself. Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Spurning Nature, torturing art; Loves and Graces all rejected, Then indeed thou’d’st act a part.

Duncan Davison Poetry There was a lass, they ca’d her Meg, And she held o’er the moors to spin; There was a lad that follow’d her, They ca’d him Duncan Davison. The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh, Her favour Duncan could na win; For wi’ the rock she wad him knock, And aye […]

The Lovely Lass O’ Inverness Robert Burns Poetry The lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For, e’en to morn she cries, alas! And aye the saut tear blin’s her e’e. Drumossie moor, Drumossie day— A waefu’ day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father […]

THE HOLY FAIR. A robe of seeming truth and trust Did crafty observation; And secret hung, with poison’d crust, The dirk of Defamation: A mask that like the gorget show’d, Dye-varying on the pigeon; And for a mantle large and broad, He wrapt him in Religion. HYPOCRISY A-LA-MODE. The scene of this fine poem is […]