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Elegy On Captain Matthew Henderson

By |2018-11-12T18:27:38+00:00November 10th, 2018|1790, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Should the poor be flattered?-Shakespeare. O Death! thou tyrant felland bloody! The meikledevil wi' a woodie Haurlthee hameto his black smiddie, O'er hurcheonhides, And like stock-fish come o'er his studdie Wi' thy auld sides! He's gane, he's gane! he's frae us torn, The ae best fellow e'er was born! Thee, Matthew, Nature's sel'shall mourn, By [...]

Elegy On The Year 1788

By |2018-11-12T18:26:56+00:00November 10th, 2018|1788, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

For lords orkings I dinnamourn, E'en let them die-for that they're born: But oh! prodigious to reflec'! A Towmont, sirs, is ganeto wreck! O Eighty-eight, in thy sma'space, What dire events hae taken place! Of what enjoyments thou hast reft us! In what a picklethou has left us! The Spanish empire's tint a head, And [...]

Elegy On “Stella”

By |2018-11-12T18:26:39+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Strait is the spot and green the sod From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear Inhabitant below. Pardon my transport, gentle shade, While o'er the turf I bow; Thy earthy house is circumscrib'd, And solitary now. Not one poor stone to tell thy name, Ormake thy virtues known: But what avails [...]

Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair

By |2018-11-12T18:26:39+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

The lamp of day, with-ill presaging glare, Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave; Th' inconstant blast howl'd thro' the dark'ning air, And hollow whistled in the rocky cave. Lone as I wander'd byeach cliff and dell, Once the lov'd haunts of Scotia's royal train;^1 Or mus'd where limpid streams, once hallow'd well,^2 Ormould'ring ruins [...]

Tam Samson’s Elegy

By |2018-11-12T18:26:21+00:00November 10th, 2018|1786, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

An honest man's the noblest work of God-Pope. Has auld Kilmarnock seen the deil? Or great Mackinlay^1thrawn his heel? Or Robertson^2again grown weel, To preach an' read? "Na' waurthan a'! cries ilka chiel, "Tam Samson's dead!" Kilmarnock langmay grunt an' grane, An' sigh, an' sab, an' greether lane, An' cleedher bairns, man, wife, an' wean, [...]

Poor Mailie’s Elegy

By |2018-11-12T18:26:02+00:00November 10th, 2018|1783, Elegy, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi' sauttears trickling down your nose; Our bardie's fate is at a close, Past a' remead! The last, sad cape-stane o' his woes; Poor Mailie's dead! It's nothe loss o' warl's gear, That could saebitter draw the tear, Ormakour bardie, dowie, wear The mourning weed: He's lost a friend [...]