Wilt Thou Be My Dearie?

By |2018-11-12T18:28:38+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

Wilt thou be my Dearie? When Sorrow wring thy gentle heart, O wilt thou let me cheer thee! Bythe treasure of my soul, That's the love I bearthee: I swear and vow that only thou Shall ever be my Dearie! Only thou, I swear and vow, Shall ever be my Dearie! Lassie, say thou lo'es [...]

The Tear-Drop

By |2018-11-12T18:28:33+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e; Lang, langhas Joy been a stranger to me: Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear, And the sweet voice o'Pity ne'er sounds in my ear. Love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I luv'd; Love, thou hast sorrows, and sairhae I pruv'd; Butthis bruised heart [...]

The Winter Of Life

By |2018-11-12T18:28:33+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

But lately seen in gladsome green, The woods rejoic'd the day, Thro' gentle showers, the laughing flowers In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled On winter blasts awa; Yet maiden May, in rich array, Again shall bring them a'. But my white pow, naekindly thowe Shall melt the snaws of Age; [...]

Philly And Willy

By |2018-11-12T18:28:37+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Robert Burns Poems, Song, Type, Year|

He. O Philly, happy be that day, When roving thro' the gather'd hay, My youthfu' heart was stownaway, And bythy charms, my Philly. She. O Willy, aye I bless the grove Where first I own'd my maiden love, Whilst thou did pledge the Powers above, To be my ain dear Willy. Both. For a' the [...]

Pretty Peg

By |2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

As I gaedup byyon gate-end, When day was waxin' weary, Whadid I meet come down the street, Butpretty Peg, my dearie! Her airsaesweet, an'shape complete, Wi' naeproportion wanting, The Queen of Love did never move Wi' motion mairenchanting. Wi'linked hands we took the sands, Adown yonwinding river; Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower, Forget [...]

Remorseful Apology

By |2018-11-12T18:28:32+00:00November 10th, 2018|1794, Poem, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

The friend whom, wild from Wisdom's way, The fumes of wine infuriate send, (Not moony madness more astray) Who butdeplores that hapless friend? Mine was th' insensate frenzied part, Ah! why should I such scenes outlive? Scenes so abhorrent to my heart!- 'Tis thine to pity and forgive.