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The Bonie Moor-Hen

By |2018-11-12T18:26:50+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

The heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn, Our lads gaeda-hunting aeday at the dawn, O'er moors and o'er mosses and mony a glen, At length they discover'd a bonie moor-hen. Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men, I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men; Take some on the wing, and [...]

The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water

By |2018-11-12T18:26:51+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

My lord, I know your noble ear Woe ne'er assails in vain; Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear Your humble slave complain, How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams, In flaming summer-pride, Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams, And drink my crystal tide.^1 The lightly-jumping, glowrin' trouts, That thro' my waters play, If, in their random, wanton spouts, [...]

The Young Highland Rover

By |2018-11-12T18:26:56+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Loud blawthe frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes, Since my young Highland rover Far wanders nations over. Where'er he go, where'er he stray, May heaven be his warden; Return him safe to fair Strathspey, And bonie Castle-Gordon! The trees, now naked groaning, Shall soon wi'leaves be hinging, The birdies [...]

Theniel Menzies’ Bonie Mary

By |2018-11-12T18:26:56+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

In comin bythe brigo' Dye, At Darlet we a blinkdid tarry; As day was dawnin in the sky, We drank a health to bonie Mary. Chorus.-Theniel Menzies' bonie Mary, Theniel Menzies' bonie Mary, Charlie Grigor tinthis plaidie, Kissin' Theniel's bonie Mary. Her eensae bright, her brow saewhite, Her haffetlocks as brown's a berry; And aye [...]

To Miss Ferrier

By |2018-11-12T18:26:51+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Nae heathen name shall I prefix, FraePindus orParnassus; Auld Reekiedings them a' to sticks, For rhyme-inspiring lasses. Jove's tunefu' dochters three times three Made Homer deep their debtor; But, gienthe bodyhalf ane'e, Nine Ferriers waddone better! Last day my mindwas in a bog, Down George's Street I stoited; A creeping cauldprosaic fog My very sense [...]

To Miss Logan, With Beattie’s Poems, For A New-Year’s Gift, Jan. 1, 1787

By |2018-11-12T18:26:51+00:00November 10th, 2018|1787, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Again the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heaven. Nogifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail; I send you more than India boasts, In Edwin's simple tale. Our sex with guile, and faithless love, Is charg'd, perhaps [...]