1794 Archives - Page 5 of 6

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

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

Farewell Thou Stream

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

Farewell, thou stream that winding flows Around Eliza's dwelling; O mem'ry! spare the cruel thoes Within my bosom swelling. Condemn'd to drag a hopeless chain And yet in secret languish; To feel a fire in every vein, Nor dare disclose my anguish. Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown, I fainmy griefs would cover; The bursting sigh,

Esteem For Chloris

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

As, Chloris, since it may not be, That thou of love wilt hear; If from the lover thou maunflee, Yet let the friend be dear. Altho' I love my Chloris mair Than ever tongue could tell; My passion I will ne'er declare- I'll say, I wish thee well. Tho' a' my daily care thou art,

Epitaph On A Noted Coxcomb

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:25+00:001794, Epitaph, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Light lay the earth on Billy's breast, His chicken heart so tender; Butbuild a castle on his head, His scull will prop it under.

Epitaph For Mr. Walter Riddell

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:25+00:001794, Epitaph, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Sic a reptile was Wat, sica miscreant slave, That the worms ev'n damn'd him when laid in his grave; "In his flesh there's a famine," a starved reptile cries, "And his heart is rank poison!" another replies.

Epistle From Esopus To Maria

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:25+00:001794, Epistle, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

From those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, And deal from iron hands the spare repast; Where truant 'prentices, yet young in sin, Blush at the curious stranger peeping in; Where strumpets, relics of the drunken roar, Resolve to drink, nay, half, to

Epigram On A Country Laird

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:25+00:001794, Epigram, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardonessp, With grateful, lifted eyes, Who taught that not the soul alone, Butbodytoo shall rise; For had He said "the soul alone From death I will deliver," Alas, alas! O Cardoness, Then hadst thou lain for ever.

Contented Wi’ Little And Cantie Wi’ Mair

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:36+00:001794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Contented wi' little, and cantiewi' mair, Whene'er I forgatherwi' Sorrow and Care, I giethem a skelpas they're creeping alang, Wi' a cogo' gude swatsand anauldScottish sang. Chorus-Contented wi' little, &c. I whiles clawthe elbow o' troublesome thought; ButMan is a soger, and Life is a faught; My mirth and gude humour are coin in my

Charlie, He’s My Darling

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

'Twas on a Monday morning, Right early in the year, That Charlie came to our town, The young Chevalier. Chorus-An' Charlie, he's my darling, My darling, my darling, Charlie, he's my darling, The young Chevalier. As he was walking up the street, The city for to view, O there he spied a bonie lass The