1789 Archives - Page 2 of 6

The Laddie’s Dear Sel’

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:25+00:001789, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity That he from our lassies should wander awa'; For he's bonieand braw, weel-favor'd witha', An' his hair has a natural bucklean' a'. His coat is the hue o' his bonnet saeblue, His fecketis white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae, and

The Kirk Of Scotland’s Alarm

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:33+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Orthodox! orthodox, who believe in John Knox, Let me sound an alarm to your conscience: A heretic blast has been blown in the West, "That what is no sense must be nonsense," Orthodox! That what is no sense must be nonsense. Doctor Mac! Doctor Mac, you should streek on a rack, To strike evil-doers wi'

The Gard’ner Wi’ His Paidle

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:32+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

When rosy May comes in wi' flowers, To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers, Then busy, busy are his hours, The Gard'ner wi' his paidle. The crystal waters gently fa', The merry bards are lovers a', The scented breezes round him blaw- The Gard'ner wi' his paidle. When purple morning starts the hare To steal upon

The Five Carlins

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:32+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

There was five Carlins in the South, They fellupon a scheme, To send a lad to London town, To bring them tidings hame. Nor only bring them tidings hame, But do their errands there, And aiblinsgowdand honor baith Might be that laddie's share. There was Maggy by the banks o' Nith, A dame wi' pride

The Captive Ribband

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:32+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Dear Myra, the captive ribband's mine, 'Twas all my faithful love could gain; And would you ask me to resign The sole reward that crowns my pain? Go, bid the hero who has run Thro' fields of death to gather fame, Go, bidhim lay his laurels down, And all his well-earn'd praise disclaim. The ribband

The Captain’s Lady

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:25+00:001789, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Chorus.-O mount and go, mount and make you ready, O mount and go, and be the Captain's lady. When the drums do beat, and the cannons rattle, Thou shalt sit in state, and see thy love in battle: When the drums do beat, and the cannons rattle, Thou shalt sit in state, and see thy

The Braes O’ Killiecrankie

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:24+00:001789, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Where hae ye been sae braw, lad? Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O? Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad? Camye byKilliecrankie, O? Chorus.-An ye had been whare I hae been, Ye wadnabeen saecantie, O; An ye had seen what I haeseen, I'the Braes o' Killiecrankie, O. I faught at land, I faught at

The Battle Of Sherramuir

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:32+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

"O cam ye here the fight to shun, Or herdthe sheep wi' me, man? Or were ye at the Sherra-moor, Or did the battle see, man?" I saw the battle, sairand teugh, And reekin-red ran mony a sheugh; My heart, for fear, gaed soughfor sough, To hear the thuds, and see the cluds O' clans

The Banks Of Nith

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:24+00:001789, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

The Thames flows proudly to the sea, Where royal cities stately stand; Butsweeter flows the Nith to me, Where Comyns ancehad high command. When shall I see that honour'd land, That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand For ever, ever keep me here! How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, Where

Tam Glen

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:32+00:001789, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len', To anger them a'is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking, wi'sica brawfellow, In poortithI might maka fen; What care I in riches to wallow, If I maunnamarry Tam Glen! There's Lowrie the Lairdo' Dumeller- "Gude day to