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 [...]

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 [...]

The Banks O’ Doon

By |2018-11-12T18:27:54+00:00November 12th, 2018|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

By |2018-11-12T18:27:54+00:00November 12th, 2018|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, [...]