Type Archives - Page 2 of 56 - London Ceilidh Club: London Scots

The Banks O’ Doon

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:54+00:00Categories: 1791, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, How can ye blumesae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu'o care! Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough! Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luvewas true. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That

The Banks O’ Doon

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:27:54+00:00Categories: 1791, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed never to return. AfthaeI rov'd byBonieDoon,

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:56+00:00Categories: None, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Talk not to me of savages, From Afric's burning sun; Nosavage e'ercould rend my heart, As Jessie, thou hast done: ButJessie's lovely hand in mine, A mutual faith to plight, Not even to view the heavenly choir, Would be so blest a sight."

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:56+00:00Categories: None, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"But rarely seen since Nature's birth, The natives of the sky; Yet still one seraph's left on earth, For Jessie did not die."

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:56+00:00Categories: None, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

"Say, sages, what's the charm on earth Can turn Death's dart aside! It is not purity and worth, Else Jessie had not died."

Ploughman’s Life, The

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:25:54+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

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:25:54+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'

Tragic Fragment

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:25:54+00:00Categories: 1771-1779, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

All devil as I am-a damned wretch, A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain, Still my heart melts at human wretchedness; And with sincere but unavailing sighs I view the helpless children of distress: With tears indignant I behold the oppressor Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction, Whose unsubmitting heart was all his crime. - Ev'n you,

Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:55+00:00Categories: None, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Fill me with the rosy wine, Call a toast, a toast divine: Giveth me Poet's darling flame, Lovely Jessie be her name; Then thou mayest freely boast, Thou hast given a peerless toast.

Fairest Maid On Devon Banks

ed mccabe2018-11-12T18:28:57+00:00Categories: None, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Chorus-Fairest maid on Devon banks, Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou wert wont to do? Full well thou know'st I love thee dear, Couldst thou to malice lend anear! O did not Love exclaim: "Forbear, Nor use a faithful lover so." Fairest maid, &c. Then come, thou