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……

Meg O’ The Mill

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:12+00:001793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

O ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten, An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten? A brawnew naigwi'the tail o' a rottan, And that's what Meg o' the Mill has gotten. O ken ye what Meg o' the Mill lo'es dearly, An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill lo'es

My Spouse Nancy

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:19+00:001793, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

"Husband, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, Sir; Tho' I am your wedded wife Yet I am not your slave, Sir." "One of two must still obey, Nancy, Nancy; Is it Man orWoman, say, My spouse Nancy?' "If 'tis still the lordly word, Service and obedience; I'll desert my sov'reign lord, And so,

O Were My Love Yon Lilac Fair

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:19+00:001793, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

O were my love yon Lilac fair, Wi'purple blossoms to the Spring, And I, a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing! How I wad mourn when it was torn By Autumn wild, and Winter rude! ButI wadsing on wanton wing, When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd. O ginmy love were yonredrose,

On Commissary Goldie’s Brains

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:12+00:001793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Lord, to account who dares thee call, Ore'erdispute thy pleasure? Else why, within so thicka wall, Enclose so poor a treasure?

On Mrs. Riddell’s Birthday

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:12+00:001793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Old Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: "What have I done of all the year, To bearthis hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night's horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, Butspleeny English hanging, drowning. "Now Jove, for once be mighty

On Politics

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:12+00:001793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

In Politics if thou would'st mix, And mean thy fortunes be; Bearthis in mind,-be deaf and blind, Let great folk hear and see.

Open The Door To Me, Oh

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:13+00:001793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Oh, open the door, some pity to shew, Oh, open the door to me, oh, Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true, Oh, open the door to me, oh. Cauldis the blast upon my pale cheek, Butcaulder thy love for me, oh: The frost that freezes the life at my heart, Is nought

Phillis The Fair

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:19+00:001793, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

While larks, with little wing, Fann'd the pure air, Tasting the breathing Spring, Forth I did fare: Gay the sun's golden eye Peep'd o'er the mountains high; Such thy morn! did I cry, Phillis the fair. In each bird's careless song, Glad I did share; While yonwild-flowers among, Chance led me there! Sweet to the

Phillis The Queen O’ The Fair

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:19+00:001793, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Adown winding Nith I did wander, To markthe sweet flowers as they spring; Adown winding Nith I did wander, Of Phillis to muse and to sing. Chorus.-Awa' wi' your belles and your beauties, They never wi' her can compare, Whaever has met wi' my Phillis, Has met wi' the queen o' the fair. The daisy

Poortith Cauld And Restless Love

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:20+00:001793, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

O poortith cauld, and restless love, Ye wrack my peace between ye; Yet poortitha' I could forgive, An'twere nafor my Jeanie. Chorus-O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Orwhy sae sweet a flower as love Depend on Fortune's shining? The warld's wealth, when I think on, It's pride and a'the laveo't;

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