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……

Epistle To Colonel De Peyster

By |2018-11-12T18:25:53+00:00November 12th, 2018|Epistle, None, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

My honor'd Colonel, deep I feel Your interest in the Poet's weal; Ah! now sma'heart haeI to speel The steep Parnassus, Surrounded thus by bolus pill, And potion glasses. O what a canty world were it, Would pain and care and sickness spare it; And Fortune favour worthand merit As they deserve; And aye rowtho'roast-beef [...]

Craigieburn Wood

By |2018-11-12T18:27:54+00:00November 12th, 2018|1791, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Sweet closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood, And blythely awaukens the morrow; But the pride o' the springin the Craigieburn Wood Can yield to me nothing but sorrow. Chorus.-Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie, And O to be lying beyond thee! O sweetly, soundly, weelmay he sleep That's laid in the bed beyond thee! I [...]

Ballads on Mr. Heron’s Election, 1795

By |2018-11-12T18:25:54+00:00November 12th, 2018|Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type|

"Fy, let us a'to Kirkcudbright, For there will be bickerin' there; For Murray's light horse are to muster, And O how the heroes will swear! And there will be Murray, Commander, And Gordon, the battle to win; Like brothers they'll stand by each other, Sae knit in alliance and kin. And there will be black-nebbitJohnie, [...]

The Epitaph

By |2018-11-12T18:27:39+00:00November 12th, 2018|1790, Epitaph, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Stop, passenger! my story's brief, And truth I shall relate, man; I tell naecommon tale o' grief, For Matthew was a great man. If thou uncommon merit hast, Yet spurn'd at Fortune's door, man; A look of pity hither cast, For Matthew was a poor man. If thou a noble sodgerart, That passest bythis grave, [...]

Ca’ The Yowes To The Knowes

By |2018-11-12T18:27:31+00:00November 12th, 2018|1789, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Chorus.-Ca' the yowes to the knowes, Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnierowes, My boniedearie As I gaeddown the water-side, There I met my shepherd lad: He row'd me sweetly in his plaid, And he ca'd me his dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. Will ye gang down the water-side, And see [...]

Wandering Willie

By |2018-11-12T18:28:18+00:00November 12th, 2018|1793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Now tired with wandering, haudawahame; Come to my bosom, my aeonly dearie, And tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same. Loud blew the cauldwinter winds at our parting; It was nathe blast brought the tear in my e'e: Now welcome the Simmer, and welcome my Willie, The [...]

Meg O’ The Mill

By |2018-11-12T18:28:18+00:00November 12th, 2018|1793, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type|

"O ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten, An'kenye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten? She gottena coofwi' a clauto' siller, And broken the heart o'the barley Miller. The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy; A heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady; The lairdwas a widdifu', bleerit [...]

Fragment Of Song

By |2018-11-12T18:26:39+00:00November 12th, 2018|1786, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

"The night was still, and o'er the hill The moon shone on the castle wa'; The mavissang, while dew-drops hang Around her on the castle wa'; Saemerrily they danced the ring Fraeeenin' tillthe cockdid craw; And aye the o'erwordo'the spring Was ""Irvine's bairns are boniea'."""