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Adam Armour's Prayer Adam Armour's Prayer

Adam Armour's Prayer
Gude pity me, because I'm little! For though I am an elf o' mettle, An' can, like ony wabster's shuttle, Jink there or here, Yet, scarce as lang's a gude kail-whittle, I'm unco queer. An' now Thou kens our waefu' case; For Geordie's jurr we're in disgrace, Because we stang'd her through the place, An' hurt her spleuchan; For whilk we... Poems - Post by : supershoponline - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1356

Epitaph For James Smith Epitaph For James Smith

Epitaph For James Smith
Lament him, Mauchline husbands a', He aften did assist ye; For had ye staid hale weeks awa, Your wives they ne'er had miss'd ye. Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye press To school in bands thegither, O tread ye lightly on his grass,-- Perhaps he was your father! 1785(The end)Robert Burns's poem: Epitaph For James Smith... Poems - Post by : rjbowman - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 3376

Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper

Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper
Here lies Johnie Pigeon; What was his religion? Whae'er desires to ken, To some other warl' Maun follow the carl, For here Johnie Pigeon had nane! Strong ale was ablution, Small beer persecution, A dram was memento mori; But a full-flowing bowl Was the saving his soul, And port was celestial glory. 1785(The end)Robert Burns's poem: Epitaph... Poems - Post by : DiscoBiscuit - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 3419

To A Mouse To A Mouse

To A Mouse
(To a Mouse, On Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785)Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi' bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, Wi' murd'ring pattle! I'm truly sorry man's dominion, Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes... Poems - Post by : easygoing - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2046

Fragment--her Flowing Locks Fragment--her Flowing Locks

Fragment--her Flowing Locks
Her flowing locks, the raven's wing, Adown her neck and bosom hing; How sweet unto that breast to cling, And round that neck entwine her! Her lips are roses wat wi' dew, O' what a feast her bonie mou'! Her cheeks a mair celestial hue, A crimson still diviner!1785(The end)Robert Burns's poem: Fragment--Her Flowing Locks... Poems - Post by : RoseJac - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2746

Farewell To Ballochmyle Farewell To Ballochmyle

Farewell To Ballochmyle
Tune--"Miss Forbe's farewell to Banff." The Catrine woods were yellow seen, The flowers decay'd on Catrine lee, Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green, But nature sicken'd on the e'e. Thro' faded groves Maria sang, Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while; And aye the wild-wood ehoes rang, Fareweel the braes o' Ballochmyle! Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, Again ye'll flourish... Poems - Post by : boysss - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 826

Young Peggy Blooms Young Peggy Blooms

Young Peggy Blooms
Tune--"Loch Eroch-side." Young Peggy blooms our boniest lass, Her blush is like the morning, The rosy dawn, the springing grass, With early gems adorning. Her eyes outshine the radiant beams That gild the passing shower, And glitter o'er the crystal streams, And cheer each fresh'ning flower. Her lips, more than the cherries bright, A richer dye has graced them;... Poems - Post by : karrine - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 3681

Second Epistle To Davie Second Epistle To Davie

Second Epistle To Davie
A Brother Poet Auld Neibour, I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor, For your auld-farrant, frien'ly letter; Tho' I maun say't I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, Lang may your elbuck jink diddle, To cheer you thro' the weary widdle... Poems - Post by : imported_n/a - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 898

Epistle To The Rev. John M'math Epistle To The Rev. John M'math

Epistle To The Rev. John M'math
Sept. 13, 1785. Inclosing A Copy Of "Holy Willie's Prayer," Which He Had Requested, Sept. 17, 1785 While at the stook the shearers cow'r To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme. My musie, tir'd wi' mony a sonnet On gown, an' ban', an' douse... Poems - Post by : playatth - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1241

Third Epistle To J. Lapraik Third Epistle To J. Lapraik

Third Epistle To J. Lapraik
Guid speed and furder to you, Johnie, Guid health, hale han's, an' weather bonie; Now, when ye're nickin down fu' cannie The staff o' bread, May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y To clear your head. May Boreas never thresh your rigs, Nor kick your rickles aff their legs, Sendin the stuff o'er muirs an' haggs Like drivin wrack; But... Poems - Post by : elevated - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2109

The Holy Fair The Holy Fair

The Holy Fair
(1)A robe of seeming truth and trust Hid 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 Upon a simmer Sunday morn When Nature's face is fair, I walked... Poems - Post by : mikefilsaime - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1405

Epistle To John Goldie, In Kilmarnock Epistle To John Goldie, In Kilmarnock

Epistle To John Goldie, In Kilmarnock
Author Of The Gospel Recovered.--August, 1785 O Gowdie, terror o' the whigs, Dread o' blackcoats and rev'rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an' looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues May seize you quick. Poor gapin', glowrin' Superstition! Wae's me, she's in a sad condition: Fye: bring Black Jock, (1) her state physician, To see her water;... Poems - Post by : Darrell_Boyce - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2561

Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux

Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux
(Note: Ruisseaux is French for rivulets or "burns," a translation of his name.)Now Robin lies in his last lair, He'll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair; Cauld poverty, wi' hungry stare, Nae mair shall fear him; Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care, E'er mair come near him. To tell the truth, they seldom fash'd him, Except the moment that they crush'd him; For sune as chance or fate had... Poems - Post by : wizzy - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2278

Rantin', Rovin' Robin Rantin', Rovin' Robin

Rantin', Rovin' Robin
Tune--"Daintie Davie." There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o' whatna style, I doubt it's hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi' Robin. Chor.--Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin', Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', Robin! Our monarch's hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days begun (1),... Poems - Post by : dan7530 - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1958

Tho' Cruel Fate Should Bid Us Part Tho' Cruel Fate Should Bid Us Part

Tho' Cruel Fate Should Bid Us Part
Tune--"The Northern Lass." Tho' cruel fate should bid us part, Far as the pole and line, Her dear idea round my heart, Should tenderly entwine. Tho' mountains, rise, and deserts howl, And oceans roar between; Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, I still would love my Jean. . . . . . . .1785(The end)Robert Burns's poem: Tho' Cruel Fate Should Bid Us Part... Poems - Post by : andyj - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1845

One Night As I Did Wander One Night As I Did Wander

One Night As I Did Wander
Tune--"John Anderson, my jo." One night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me, And bicker'd to the seas; A cushat crooded o'er me, That echoed through the braes . . . . . . .1785(The end)Robert Burns's poem: One Night As I Did Wander... Poems - Post by : pedro - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2390

Epistle To William Simson Epistle To William Simson

Epistle To William Simson
Schoolmaster, Ochiltree.--May, 1785 I gat your letter, winsome Willie; Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie; Tho' I maun say't, I wad be silly, And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billie Your flatterin strain. But I'se believe ye kindly meant it: I sud be laith to think ye hinted Ironic satire, sidelins sklented On my poor Musie;... Poems - Post by : banners2go - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 1334

Second Epistle To J. Lapraik Second Epistle To J. Lapraik

Second Epistle To J. Lapraik
April 21, 1785 While new-ca'd kye rowte at the stake An' pownies reek in pleugh or braik, This hour on e'enin's edge I take, To own I'm debtor To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik, For his kind letter. Forjesket sair, with weary legs, Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, Or dealing thro' amang the naigs Their ten-hours' bite, My... Poems - Post by : danomatic - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 3608

Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard

Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard
April 1, 1785 While briers an' woodbines budding green, An' paitricks scraichin loud at e'en, An' morning poussie whiddin seen, Inspire my muse, This freedom, in an unknown frien', I pray excuse. On Fasten--e'en we had a rockin, To ca' the crack and weave our stockin; And there was muckle fun and jokin, Ye need na doubt;... Poems - Post by : Eddie_Scotten - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 3392

Death And Doctor Hornbook - A True Story Death And Doctor Hornbook - A True Story

Death And Doctor Hornbook - A True Story
Some books are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penn'd: Ev'n ministers they hae been kenn'd, In holy rapture, A rousing whid at times to vend, And nail't wi' Scripture. But this that I am gaun to tell, Which lately on a night befell, Is just as true's the Deil's in hell Or Dublin city: That... Poems - Post by : kenetrix - Date : June 2011 - Author : Robert Burns - Read : 2152