the news o' princes, dukes, and earls,
pimps, sharpers, bawds, and opera-girls;
if that daft buckie, geordie wales,
was threshing still at hizzies' tails;
or if he was grown oughtlins douser,
and no a perfect kintra cooser:
a' this and mair i never heard of;
and, but for you, i might despair'd of.
so, gratefu', back your news i send you,
and pray a' gude things may attend you.
ellisland, monday morning, 1790.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns elegy on willie nicols mare elegy on willie nicol's mare
peg nicholson was a good bay mare,
as ever trod on airn;
but now she's floating down the nith,
and past the mouth o' cairn.
peg nicholson was a good bay mare,
an' rode thro' thick and thin;
but now she's floating down the nith,
and wanting even the skin.
peg nicholson was a good bay mare,
and ance she bore a priest;
but now she's floating down the nith,
for solway fish a feast.
peg nicholson was a good bay mare,
an' the priest he rode her sair;
and much oppress'd and bruis'd she was,
as priest-rid cattle are,—
c. c.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns the gowden locks of anna the gowden locks of anna
yestreen i had a pint o' wine,
a place where body saw na;
yestreen lay on this breast o' mine
the gowden locks of anna.
the hungry jew in wilderness,
rejoicing o'er his manna,
was naething to my hinny bliss
upon the lips of anna.
ye monarchs, take the east and west
frae indus to savannah;
gie me, within my straining grasp,
the melting form of anna:
there i'll despise imperial charms,
an empress or sultana,
while dying raptures in her arms
i give and take wi' anna!
awa, thou flaunting god of day!
awa, thou pale diana!
ilk star, gae hide thy twinkling ray,
when i'm to meet my anna!
e, in thy raven plumage, night,
(sun, moon, and stars, withdrawn a';)
and bring an angel-pen to write
my transports with my anna!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns postscript postscript
the kirk an' state may join an' tell,
to do sic things i maunna:
the kirk an' state may gae to hell,
and i'll gae to my anna.
she is the sunshine o' my e'e,
to live but her i canna;
had i on earth but wishes three,
the first should be my anna.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns song—i murder hate song—i murder hate
i murder hate by flood or field,
tho' glory's name may screen us;
in wars at home i'll spend my blood—
life-giving wars of venus.
the deities that i adore
are social peace and plenty;
i'm better pleas'd to make one more,
than be the death of twenty.
i would not die like socrates,
for all the fuss of plato;
nor would i with leonidas,
nor yet would i with cato:
the zealots of the church and state
shall ne'er my mortal foes be;
but let me have bold zimri's fate,
within the arms of cozbi!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns gudewife, count the lawin gudewife, count the lawin
gane is the day, and mirk's the night,
but we'll ne'er stray for faut o' light;
gude ale and bratdy's stars and moon,
and blue-red wine's the risin' sun.
chorus.—then gudewife, count the lawin,
the lawin, the lawin,
then gudewife, count the lawin,
and bring a coggie mair.
there's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
and simple folk maun fecht and fen';
but here we're a' in ae accord,
for ilka man that's drunk's a lord.
then gudewife, c.
my coggie is a haly pool
that heals the wounds o' care and dool;
and pleasure is a wanton trout,
an ye drink it a', ye'll find him out.
then gudewife, c.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns election ballad election ballad
at the close of the contest for representing the dumfries burghs, 1790.
addressed to r. graham, esq. of fintry.
fintry, my stay in wordly strife,
friend o' my muse, friend o' my life,
are ye as idle's i am?
e then, wi' uncouth kintra fleg,
o'er pegasus i'll fling my leg,
and ye shall see me try him.
but where shall i go rin a ride,
that i may splatter nane beside?
i wad na be uncivil:
in manhood's various paths and ways
there's aye some doytin' body strays,
and i ride like the devil.
thus i break aff wi' a' my birr,
and down yon dark, deep alley spur,
where theologics daunder:
alas! curst wi' eternal fogs,
and damn'd in everlasting bogs,
as sure's the creed i'll blunder!
i'll stain a band, or jaup a gown,
or rin my reckless, guilty crown
against the haly door:
sair do i rue my luckless fate,
when, as the muse an' deil wad hae't,
i rade that road before.
suppose i take a spurt, and mix
amang the wilds o' politics—
electors and elected,
where dogs at court (sad sons of bitches!)
septennially a madness touches,
till all the land's infected.
all hail! drumlanrig's haughty grace,
discarded remnant of a race
once godlike—great in story;
thy forbears' virtues all contrasted,
the very name of douglas blasted,
thine that inverted glory!
hate, envy, oft the douglas bore,
but thou hast superadded more,
and sunk them in contempt;
follies and crimes have stain'd the name,
but, queensberry, thine the virgin claim,
from aught that's good exempt!
i'll sing the zeal drumlanrig bears,
who left the all-important cares
of princes, and their darlings:
and, bent on winning borough touns,
came shaking hands wi' wabster-loons,
and kissing barefit carlins.
bustion thro' our boroughs rode,
whistling his roaring pack abroad
of mad unmuzzled lions;
as queensberry blue and buff unfurl'd,
and westerha' and hopetoun hurled
to every whig defiance.
but cautious queensberry left the war,
th' unmanner'd dust might soil his star,
besides, he hated bleeding:
but left behind him heroes bright,
heroes in caesarean fight,
or ciceronian pleading.
o for a throat like huge mons-meg,
to muster o'er each ardent whig
beneath drumlanrig's banners;
heroes and heroinesmix,
all in the field of politics,
to win immortal honours.
m'murdo and his lovely spouse,
(th' enamour'd laurels kiss her brows!)
led on the loves and graces:
she won each gaping burgess' heart,
while he, sub rosa, played his part
amang their wives and lasses.
craigdarroch led a light-arm'd core,
tropes, metaphors, and figures pour,
like hecla streaming thunder:
glenriddel, skill'd in rusty coins,
blew up each tory's dark designs,
and bared the treason under.
in either wing two champions fought;
redoubted staig, who set at nought
the wildest savage tory;
and welsh who ne'er yet flinch'd his ground,
high-wav'd his magnum-bonum round
with cyclopeian fury.
miller brought up th' artillery ranks,
the many-pounders of the banks,
resistless desolation!
while maxwelton, that baron bold,
'mid lawson's port entrench'd his hold,
and threaten'd worse damnation.
to these what tory hosts oppos'd
with these what tory warriors clos'd
surpasses my descriving;
squadrons, extended long and large,
with furious speed rush to the charge,
like furious devils driving.
what verse can sing, what prose narrate,