Poems and Songs of Robert Burns epigram addressed to an artist epigram addressed to an artist
dear _____, i'll gie ye some advice,
you'll tak it no uncivil:
you shouldna paint at angels mair,
but try and paint the devil.
to paint an angel's kittle wark,
wi' nick, there's little danger:
you'll easy draw a lang-kent face,
but no sae weel a stranger.—r. b.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns the book-worms the book-worms
through and through th' inspir'd leaves,
ye maggots, make your windings;
but o respect his lordship's taste,
and spare his golden bindings.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on elphinstones translation of martials epigrams on elphinstone's translation of martial's epigrams
o thou whom poetry abhors,
whom prose has turned out of doors,
heard'st thou yon groan?—proceed no further,
'twas laurel'd martial calling murther.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns song—a bottle and friend song—a bottle and friend
there's nane that's blest of human kind,
but the cheerful and the gay, man,
fal, la, la, c.
here's a bottle and an honest friend!
what wad ye wish for mair, man?
wha kens, before his life may end,
what his share may be o' care, man?
then catch the moments as they fly,
and use them as ye ought, man:
believe me, happiness is shy,
andes not aye when sought, man.
lines written under the picture of the celebrated miss burns
cease, ye prudes, your envious railing,
lovely burns has charms—confess:
true it is, she had one failing,
had a woman ever less?
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns epitaph for william nicol, of the high school, edinburgh epitaph for william nicol, of the high school, edinburgh
ye maggots, feed on nicol's brain,
for few sic feasts you've gotten;
and fix your claws in nicol's heart,
for deil a bit o't's rotten.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns epitaph for mr. william michie epitaph for mr. william michie
schoolmaster of cleish parish, fifeshire.
here lie willie michie's banes;
o satan, when ye tak him,
gie him the schulin o' your weans,
for clever deils he'll mak them!
boat song—hey, ca' thro'
up wi' the carls o' dysart,
and the lads o' buckhaven,
and the kimmers o' largo,
and the lasses o' leven.
chorus.—hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',
for we hae muckle ado.
hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',
for we hae muckle ado;
we hae tales to tell,
an' we hae sangs to sing;
we hae pennies tae spend,
an' we hae pints to bring.
hey, ca' thro', c.
we'll live a' our days,
and them thates behin',
let them do the like,
an' spend the gear they win.
hey, ca' thro', c.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns address to wm. tytler, esq., of dhouselee address to wm. tytler, esq., of woodhouselee
with an impression of the author's portrait.
revered defender of beauteous stuart,
of stuart, a name once respected;
a name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
but now 'tis despis'd and neglected.
tho' something like moisture conglobes in my eye,
let no one misdeem me disloyal;
a poor friendless wand'rer may well claim a sigh,
still more if that wand'rer were royal.
my fathers that name have rever'd on a throne:
my fathers have fallen to right it;
those fathers would spurn their degenerate son,
that name should he scoffingly slight it.
still in prayers for king george i most heartily join,
the queen, and the rest of the gentry:
be they wise, be they foolish, is nothing of mine;
their title's avow'd by my country.
but why of that epocha make such a fuss,
that gave us th' electoral stem?
if bringing them over was lucky for us,
i'm sure 'twas as lucky for them.
but, loyalty, truce! we're on dangerous ground;
who knows how the fashions may alter?
the doctrine, to-day, that is loyalty sound,
to-morrow may bring us a halter!
i send you a trifle, a head of a bard,
a trifle scarce worthy your care;
but accept it, good sir, as a mark of regard,
sincere as a saint's dying prayer.
now life's chilly evening dim shades on your eye,
and ushers the long dreary night:
but you, like the star that athwart gilds the sky,
your course to the latest is bright.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns epigram to miss ainslie in church epigram to miss ainslie in church
who was looking up the text during sermon.
fair maid, you need not take the hint,
nor idle texts pursue:
'twas guilty sinners that he meant,
not angels such as you.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns burlesque lament for the absence of william creech, publisher burlesque lament for the absence of william creech, publisher
auld chuckie reekie's sair distrest,
down droops her ance weel burnish'd crest,
nae joy her bonie buskit nest
can yield ava,
her darling bird that she lo'es best—
willie's awa!
o willie was a witty wight,
and had o' things an unco' sleight,
auld reekie aye he keepit tight,
and trig an' braw:
but now they'll busk her like a fright,—
willie's awa!
the stiffest o' them a' he bow'd,
the bauldest o' them a' he cow'd;
they durst nae mair than he allow'd,
that was a law:
we've lost a birkie weel worth gowd;
willie's awa!
now gawkies, tawpies, gowks and fools,
frae colleges and boarding schools,
may sprout like simmer puddock-stools
in glen or shaw;
he wha could brush them down to mools—
willie's awa!
the brethren o' themerce-chaumer
may mourn their loss wi' doolfu' clamour;
he was a dictionar and grammar
among them a';
i fear they'll now mak mony a stammer;
willie's awa!
nae mair we see his levee door
philosophers and poets pour,
and toothy critics by the score,
in bloody raw!
the adjutant o' a' the core—
willie's awa!
now worthy gregory's latin face,
tytler's and greenfield's modest grace;
mackenzie, stewart, such a brace
as rome ne'er saw;
they a' maun meet some ither place,
willie's awa!
poor burns ev'n scotch drink canna quicken,
he cheeps like some bewilder'd chicken
scar'd frae it's minnie and the cleckin,
by hoodie-craw;
grieg's gien his heart an unco kickin,
willie's awa!
now ev'ry sour-mou'd girnin blellum,
and calvin's folk, are fit to fell him;
ilk self-conceited critic skellum
his quill may draw;
he wha could brawlie ward their bellum—
willie's awa!
up wimpling stately tweed i've sped,
and eden scenes on crystal jed,
and ettrick banks, now roaring red,
while tempests blaw;
but every joy and pleasure's fled,
willie's awa!
may i be slander'smon speech;
a text for infamy to preach;
and lastly, streekit out to bleach
in winter snaw;
when i forget thee, willie creech,
tho' far awa!
may never wicked fortune touzle him!
may never wicked men bamboozle him!
until a pow as auld's methusalem
he canty claw!
then to the blessed new jerusalem,
fleet wing awa!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns note to mr. renton of lamerton note to mr. renton of lamerton
your billet, sir, i grant receipt;