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To Mr. M’Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan

2018-11-12T18:26:33+00:00Categories: 1786, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Sir, o'er a gill I gatyour card, I trow it made me proud; "See wha taks notice o' the bard!" I lapand cried fu' loud. Now deil-ma-careabout their jaw, The senseless, gawkymillion; I'll cockmy nose abune them a', I'm roos'd by Craigen-Gillan! 'Twas noble, sir; 'twas like yourself', To grant your high protection: A great

To Ruin

2018-11-12T18:26:33+00:00Categories: 1786, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

All hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word, The mightiest empires fall! Thy cruel, woe-delighted train, The ministers of grief and pain, A sullen welcome, all! With stern-resolv'd, despairing eye, I see each aimed dart; For one has cut my dearest tie, And quivers in my heart. Then low'ring, and pouring, The storm no more

Willie Chalmers

2018-11-12T18:26:38+00:00Categories: 1786, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Wi' braw new branksin micklepride, And ekea brawnew brechan, My Pegasus I'm got astride, And up Parnassus pechin; Whiles owrea bush wi' donwward crush, The doitedbeastiestammers; Then up he gets, and off he sets, For sake o' Willie Chalmers. I doubt na, lass, that weelken'd name May cost a pair o'blushes; I am nae stranger

The Lass O’ Ballochmyle

2018-11-12T18:26:38+00:00Categories: 1786, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

'Twas even-the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang; The zephyr wanton'd round the bean, And boreits fragrant sweets alang: In ev'ry glen the mavissang, All nature list'ning seem'd the while, Except where greenwood echoes rang, Amangthe braes o' Ballochmyle. With careless step I onward stray'd, My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy,

Yon Wild Mossy Mountains

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

Yon wild mossy mountains saelofty and wide, That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde, Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed, And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed. Not Gowrie's rich valley, nor Forth's sunny shores, To me hae the charms o'yon wild,

Nature’s Law – A Poem

2018-11-12T18:26:27+00:00Categories: 1786, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Great Nature spoke: observant man obey'd-Pope. Let other heroes boast their scars, The marks of sturtand strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa'the fun, wi'sword and gun To slapmankind like lumber! I sing his name, and nobler fame, Whamultiplies our number. Great Nature spoke, with airbenign, "Go on,

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