Robert Burns Poetry

A Grace Before Dinner, Extempore Poem O thou who kindly dost provide For every creature’s want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wide, For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly Guide, May never worse be sent; But, whether granted, or denied, Lord, bless us with content. Amen!

On Andrew Turner Poem Robert Burns In se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine, The deil gat stuff to mak a swine, An’ coost it in a corner; But wilily he chang’d his plan, An’ shap’d it something like a man, An’ ca’d it Andrew Turner.

Robert Burns Poem Fickle Fortune: A Fragment Though fickle Fortune has deceived me, She pormis’d fair and perform’d but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav’d me, Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. I’ll act with prudence as far ‘s I’m able, But if success I must never find, Then come misfortune, […]

Robert Burns – Lament For James, Earl Of Glencairn Poem The wind blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun’s departing beam Look’d on the fading yellow woods, That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail’d his lord, Whom Death […]

Robert Burns Poem Epitaph For Mr. Walter Riddell Sic a reptile was Wat, sic a miscreant slave, That the worms ev’n damn’d him when laid in his grave; In his flesh there’s a famine, a starved reptile cries, And his heart is rank poison! another replies.

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars Poetry The Toast Fill me with the rosy wine, Call a toast, a toast divine: Giveth me Poet’s darling flame, Lovely Jessie be her name; Then thou mayest freely boast, Thou hast given a peerless toast. The Menagerie Talk not to me of savages, From Afric’s burning sun; No savage […]

Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation Poem Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name, Sae fam’d in martial story. Now Sark rins over Solway sands, An’ Tweed rins to the ocean, To mark where England’s province stands— Such a parcel of rogues in a […]

O Steer Her Up An’ Haud Her Gaun Poem Robert Burns O steer her up, an’ haud her gaun, Her mither’s at the mill, jo; An’ gin she winna tak a man, E’en let her tak her will, jo. First shore her wi’ a gentle kiss, And ca’ anither gill, jo; An’ gin she tak […]

Highland Harry Back Again Robert Burns Poetry My Harry was a gallant gay, Fu’ stately strade he on the plain; But now he’s banish’d far away, I’ll never see him back again. Chorus.—O for him back again! O for him back again! I wad gie a’ Knockhaspie’s land For Highland Harry back again. When a’ […]

Sketch New Year’s Day, 1790 Poetry To Mrs. Dunlop. This day, Time winds th’ exhausted chain; To run the twelvemonth’s length again: I see, the old bald-pated fellow, With ardent eyes, complexion sallow, Adjust the unimpair’d machine, To wheel the equal, dull routine. The absent lover, minor heir, In vain assail him with their prayer; […]