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……

For The Sake O’ Somebody

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:27+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

My heart is sair-I dare natell, My heart is sairfor Somebody; I could wake a winter night For the sake o' Somebody. O-hon! for Somebody! O-hey! for Somebody! I could range the world around, For the sake o' Somebody. Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love, O, sweetly smile on Somebody! Fraeilka danger keep him

How Lang And Dreary Is The Night

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:27+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

How langand dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie; I restless lie frae e'ento morn Though I were ne'er sae weary. Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang! And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her window'd heart is sair, That's absent fraeher Dearie! When I think on the lightsome days

Inconstancy In Love

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

Let not Woman e'er complain Of inconstancy in love; Let not Woman e'ercomplain Fickle Man is apt to rove: Look abroad thro' Nature's range, Nature's mighty Law is change, Ladies, would it not seem strange Man should then a monster prove! Mark the winds, and markthe skies, Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow, Sun and moon

Inscription To Miss Graham Of Fintry

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:26+00:001794, Inscription, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Here, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives, In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined, Accept the gift; though humble he who gives, Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. So may noruffian-feeling in my breast, Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among; ButPeace attune thy gentle soul to rest, Or Love, ecstatic, wake his seraph song,

It Was A’ For Our Rightfu’ King

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:27+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

It was a' for our rightfu' King We left fair Scotland's strand; It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, my dear, We e'ersawIrish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain; My Love and Native Land fareweel, For I maun cross the main,

Lassie Wi’ The Lint-White Locks

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

Chorus.-Lassie wi'the lint-whitelocks, Bonielassie, artless lassie, Wilt thou wi' me tentthe flocks, Wilt thou be my Dearie, O? Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea, And a'is young and sweet like thee, O wilt thou share its joys wi' me, And say thou'lt be my Dearie, O. Lassie wi' the, &c. The primrose bank, the wimpling

Monody

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:27+00:001794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

How cold is that bosom which folly once fired, How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten'd; How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired, How dull is that ear which to flatt'ry so listen'd! If sorrow and anguish their exit await, From friendship and dearest affection remov'd; How doubly severer, Maria,

My Nanie’s Awa

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

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er her braes; While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw, Butto me it's delightless-my Nanie's awa. The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violetes bathe in the weet o' the morn; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they

Ode For General Washington’s Birthday

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:26+00:001794, Ode, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

No Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Aeolian I awake; 'Tis liberty's bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take! See gathering thousands, while I sing, A broken chain exulting bring, And dash it in a tyrant's face, And dare him to his very beard, And tell him he no more is

On A Suicide

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

Earth'd up, here lies animp o'hell, Planted bySatan's dibble; Poor silly wretch, he's damned himsel', To save the Lord the trouble.

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