Welcome to our Robert Burns poems

Robert Bunrs Poems

Robert Burns poems are know the world over. As Scotland’s national bard his poetry and songs have been celebrated and argued about for over 200 years. He covered many subjects: love, politics, religion, nature and death amongst others. His gentle (and not so gentle) mocking ways took down pomposity and arrogance in extablished hierarchical institutions.

Initially feted by the Edinburgh literary elite his support for the principles of the French revolution saw him shunned and he returned to the west of Scotland where he died at a young age.

We hope you enjoy the Robert Burns poems here and delve into them from time to time. Human nature doesn’t change; the classics can still seem fresh to us today.

We encourage to explore these wonderful poems, particularly around his birthday on the 25th January but also all year round. Dinnae be a sleekit wee beastie wi’ his works……

On The Seas And Far Away

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:37+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

How can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad; How can I the thought forego- He's on the seas to meet the foe? Let me wander, let me rove, Still my heart is with my love; Nightly dreams, and thoughts by day, Are with him that's far away. Chorus.-On the seas

On Wm. Graham, Esq., Of Mossknowe

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Stop thief!" dame Nature call'd to Death, As Willy drew his latest breath; How shall I make a fool again? My choicest model thou hast ta'en.

Philly And Willy

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:37+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

He. O Philly, happy be that day, When roving thro' the gather'd hay, My youthfu' heart was stownaway, And bythy charms, my Philly. She. O Willy, aye I bless the grove Where first I own'd my maiden love, Whilst thou did pledge the Powers above, To be my ain dear Willy. Both. For a' the

Pinned To Mrs. Walter Riddell’s Carriage

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

If you rattle along like your Mistress' tongue, Your speed will outrival the dart; Buta fly for your load, you'll break down on the road, If your stuff be as rotten's her heart.

Pretty Peg

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

As I gaedup byyon gate-end, When day was waxin' weary, Whadid I meet come down the street, Butpretty Peg, my dearie! Her airsaesweet, an'shape complete, Wi' naeproportion wanting, The Queen of Love did never move Wi' motion mairenchanting. Wi'linked hands we took the sands, Adown yonwinding river; Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower, Forget

Remorseful Apology

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

The friend whom, wild from Wisdom's way, The fumes of wine infuriate send, (Not moony madness more astray) Who butdeplores that hapless friend? Mine was th' insensate frenzied part, Ah! why should I such scenes outlive? Scenes so abhorrent to my heart!- 'Tis thine to pity and forgive.

Saw Ye My Dear, My Philly

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:38+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

O saw ye my Dear, my Philly? O sawye my Dear, my Philly, She's down i'the grove, she's wi'a new Love, She winnacome hameto her Willy. What says she my dear, my Philly? What says she my dear, my Philly? She lets thee to wit she has thee forgot, And forever disowns thee, her Willy.

She Says She Loes Me Best Of A’

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:38+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Sae flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Bewitchingly o'er-arching Twalaughing e'eno' lovely blue; Her smiling, sae wyling. Wad make a wretch forget his woe; What pleasure, what treasure, Unto these rosy lips to grow! Such was my Chloris' bonie face, When first that bonieface I saw; And aye my Chloris' dearest

Sonnet On The Death Of Robert Riddell

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:39+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Sonnet, Type, Year|

No more, ye warblers of the wood! nomore; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in thy verdant stole, More welcome were to me grim Winter's wildest roar. How can ye charm, ye flowers, with all your dyes? Ye blow upon the sod that wraps my friend! How can I

The Charming Month Of May

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:38+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

It was the charming month of May, When all the flow'rs were fresh and gay. One morning, by the break of day, The youthful, charming Chloe- From peaceful slumber she arose, Girton her mantle and her hose, And o'er the flow'ry mead she goes- The youthful, charming Chloe. Chorus.-Lovely was she by the dawn, Youthful

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