Robert Burns Poetry

When She Cam’ Ben She Bobbed Poem Robert Burns O when she cam’ ben she bobbed fu’ law, O when she cam’ ben she bobbed fu’ law, And when she cam’ ben, she kiss’d Cockpen, And syne denied she did it at a’. And was na Cockpen right saucy witha’? And was na Cockpen right […]

To Miss Logan, With Beattie’s Poems, For A New-Year’s Gift, Jan. 1, 1787. Poem Robert Burns Again the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho’ scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heaven. No gifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail; I send you more […]

Hey, The Dusty Miller Robert Burns Poetry Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty coat, He will win a shilling, Or he spend a groat: Dusty was the coat, Dusty was the colour, Dusty was the kiss That I gat frae the Miller. Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty sack; Leeze me on the […]

Robert Burns Poem Epitaph For William Nicol, Of The High School, Edinburgh Ye maggots, feed on Nicol’s brain, For few sic feasts you’ve gotten; And fix your claws in Nicol’s heart, For deil a bit o’t’s rotten.

Robert Burns – Mally’s Meek, Mally’s Sweet Poem Chorus—Mally’s meek, Mally’s sweet, Mally’s modest and discreet; Mally’s rare, Mally’s fair, Mally’s every way complete. As I was walking up the street, A barefit maid I chanc’d to meet; But O the road was very hard For that fair maiden’s tender feet. Mally’s meek, &c. It […]

The Belles Of Mauchline Poem In Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles, The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a’; Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, In Lon’on or Paris, they’d gotten it a’. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland’s divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw: […]

Pretty Peg Poetry As I gaed up by yon gate-end, When day was waxin’ weary, Wha did I meet come down the street, But pretty Peg, my dearie! Her air sae sweet, an’ shape complete, Wi’ nae proportion wanting, The Queen of Love did never move Wi’ motion mair enchanting. Wi’ linked hands we took […]

Address Of Beelzebub Poem To the Right Honourable the Earl of Breadalbane, President of the RightHonourable and Honourable the Highland Society, which met on the 23rd ofMay last at the Shakespeare, Covent Garden, to concert ways and means tofrustrate the designs of five hundred Highlanders, who, as the Societywere informed by Mr. M’Kenzie of Applecross, […]

Sylvander To Clarinda Poem Extempore Reply to Verses addressed to the Author by a Lady, under thesignature of Clarinda and entitled, On Burns saying he ‘had nothing elseto do.’ When dear Clarinda, matchless fair, First struck Sylvander’s raptur’d view, He gaz’d, he listened to despair, Alas! ’twas all he dared to do. Love, from Clarinda’s […]

To The Weavers Gin Ye Go Poem Robert Burns My heart was ance as blithe and free As simmer days were lang; But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has gart me change my sang. Chorus.—To the weaver’s gin ye go, fair maids, To the weaver’s gin ye go; I rede you right, gang ne’er at […]