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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……

The Trogger.

2018-11-12T18:28:57+00:00Categories: None, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Wha will buy my troggin, fine election ware, Broken trade o' Broughton, a' in high repair? Chorus-Buy braw troggin frae the banks o' Dee; Whawants trogginlet him come to me. There's a noble Earl's fame and high renown, For an auldsang-it's thought the gudes were stown- Buy braw troggin, &c. Here's the worth o' Broughton

Ah, Woe Is Me, My Mother Dear

2018-11-12T18:25:54+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Ah, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye've born me: For saircontention I maunbear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne'er could lend on billorband, That five per cent. might blest me; And borrowing, on the titherhand, The deila anewadtrust me. Yet I, a coin-denied wight, By Fortune quite discarded;

Handsome Nell^1

2018-11-12T18:25:55+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Once I lov'd a bonie lass, Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast, I'll love my handsome Nell. As bonie lasses I haeseen, And mony full as braw; But, for a modest gracefu' mein, The like I never saw. A bonielass, I will confess, Is pleasant to the e'e;

I Dream’d I Lay

2018-11-12T18:25:55+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing Gaily in the sunny beam; List'ning to the wild birds singing, Bya falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and daring; Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave; Tress with aged arms were warring, O'er the swelling drumliewave. Such was my life's deceitful morning, Such the pleasures

Montgomerie’s Peggy

2018-11-12T18:25:55+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Altho' my bed were in yonmuir, Amangthe heather, in my plaidie; Yet happy, happy would I be, Had I my dear Montgomerie's Peggy. When o'er the hill beat surly storms, And winter nights were dark and rainy; I'd seek some dell, and in my arms I'd shelter dear Montgomerie's Peggy. Were I a baron proud

Ploughman’s Life, The

2018-11-12T18:25:54+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

As I was a-wand'ring aemorning in spring, I heard a young ploughman saesweetly to sing; And as he was singin', thirwords he did say, - There's naelife like the ploughman's in the month o'sweet May. The lav'rock in the morning she'll rise fraeher nest, And mount i'the airwi' the dew on her breast, And wi'the

Tarbolton Lasses, The

2018-11-12T18:25:54+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

If ye gae up to yon hill-tap, Ye'll there see bonie Peggy; She kens her father is a laird, And she forsooth's a leddy. There Sophy tight, a lassie bright, Besides a handsome fortune: Whacannawinher in a night, Has little art in courtin'. Gae down by Faile, and taste the ale, And taka look o'

On Chloris Being Ill

2018-11-12T18:28:51+00:00Categories: 1795, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Chorus-Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow. Can I cease to care? Can I cease to languish, While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long, &c. Ev'ry hope is fled, Ev'ry fear is terror, Slumber ev'n I dread, Ev'ry dream

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