Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on seeing mrs. kemble in yarico on seeing mrs. kemble in yarico
kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief
for moses and his rod;
at yarico's sweet nor of grief
the rock with tears had flow'd.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns epigram on a country laird, epigram on a country laird,
not quite so wise as solomon.
bless jesus christ, o cardonessp,
with grateful, lifted eyes,
who taught that not the soul alone,
but body too shall rise;
for had he said “the soul alone
from death i will deliver,”
alas, alas! o cardoness,
then hadst thou lain for ever.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on being shewn a beautiful country seat on being shewn a beautiful country seat
belonging to the same laird.
we grant they're thine, those beauties all,
so lovely in our eye;
keep them, thou eunuch, cardoness,
for others to enjoy!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on hearing it asserted falsehood on hearing it asserted falsehood
is expressed in the rev. dr. babington's very looks.
that there is a falsehood in his looks,
i must and will deny:
they tell their master is a knave,
and sure they do not lie.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on a suicide on a suicide
earth'd up, here lies an imp o' hell,
planted by satan's dibble;
poor silly wretch, he's damned himsel',
to save the lord the trouble.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on a swearing cob on a swearing cob
here cursing, swearing burton lies,
a buck, a beau, or “dem my eyes!”
who in his life did little good,
and his last words were “dem my blood!”
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on an innkeeper nicknamed “the marquis” on an innkeeper nicknamed “the marquis”
here lies a mock marquis, whose titles were shamm'd,
if ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns on andrew turner on andrew turner
in se'enteen hunder'n forty-nine,
the deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
an' coost it in a corner;
but wilily he chang'd his plan,
an' shap'd it something like a man,
an' ca'd it andrew turner.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns pretty peg pretty peg
as i gaed up by yon gate-end,
when day was waxin' weary,
wha did i meete down the street,
but pretty peg, my dearie!
her air sae sweet, an' shapeplete,
wi' nae proportion wanting,
the queen of love did never move
wi' motion mair enchanting.
wi' linked hands we took the sands,
adown yon winding river;
oh, that sweet hour and shady bower,
forget it shall i never!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns esteem for chloris esteem for chloris
as, chloris, since it may not be,
that thou of love wilt hear;
if from the lover thou maun flee,
yet let the friend be dear.
altho' i love my chloris mair
than ever tongue could tell;
my passion i will ne'er declare—
i'll say, i wish thee well.
tho' a' my daily care thou art,
and a' my nightly dream,
i'll hide the struggle in my heart,
and say it is esteem.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns saw ye my dear, my philly saw ye my dear, my philly
tune—“when she cam' ben she bobbit.”
o saw ye my dear, my philly?
o saw ye my dear, my philly,
she's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love,
she winnae hame to her willy.
what says she my dear, my philly?
what says she my dear, my philly?
she lets thee to wit she has thee forgot,
and forever disowns thee, her willy.
o had i ne'er seen thee, my philly!
o had i ne'er seen thee, my philly!
as light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
thou's broken the heart o' thy willy.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns how lang and dreary is the night how lang and dreary is the night
how lang and dreary is the night
when i am frae my dearie;
i restless lie frae e'en to morn
though i were ne'er sae weary.
chorus.—for oh, her lanely nights are lang!
and oh, her dreams are eerie;
and oh, her window'd heart is sair,
that's absent frae her dearie!
when i think on the lightsome days
i spent wi' thee, my dearie;
and now what seas between us roar,
how can i be but eerie?
for oh, c.
how slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
the joyless day how dreary:
it was na sae ye glinted by,
when i was wi' my dearie!
for oh, c.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns inconstancy in love inconstancy in love
tune—“duncan gray.”
let not woman e'erplain
of inconstancy in love;
let not woman e'erplain
fickle man is apt to rove:
look abroad thro' nature's range,
nature's mighty law is change,
ladies, would it not seem strange
man should then a monster prove!
mark the winds, and mark the skies,
ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow,
sun and moon but set to rise,
round and round the seasons go.
why then ask of silly man
to oppose great nature's plan?
we'll be constant while we can—
you can be no more, you know.
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns the lovers morning salute to his mistress the lover's morning salute to his mistress
tune—“deil tak the wars.”
sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature?
rosy morn now lifts his eye,
numbering ilka bud which nature
waters wi' the tears o' joy.
now, to the streaming fountain,
or up the heathy mountain,
the hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray;
in twining hazel bowers,
its lay the linnet pours,
the laverock to the sky
ascends, wi' sangs o' joy,
while the sun and thou arise to bless the day.
phoebus gilding the brow of morning,
banishes ilk darksome shade,
nature, gladdening and adorning;
such to me my lovely maid.
when frae my chloris parted,
sad, cheerless, broken-hearted,
the night's gloomy shades, cloudy, dark, o'ercast my sky:
but when she charms my sight,
in pride of beauty's light—
when thro' my very heart
her burning glories dart;
'tis then—'tis then i wake to life and joy!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns the winter of life the winter of life
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, nae kindly thowe
shall melt the snaws of age;
my trunk of eild, but buss or beild,
sinks in time's wintry rage.
oh, age has weary days,
and nights o' sleepless pain:
thou golden time, o' youthfu' prime,
whyes thou not again!
Poems and Songs of Robert Burns behold, my love, how green the groves behold, my love, how green the groves
tune—“my lodging is on the cold ground.”
behold, my love, how green the groves,
the primrose banks how fair;
the balmy gales awake the flowers,
and wave thy flowing hair.
the lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
and o'er the cottage sings:
for nature smiles as sweet, i ween,
to shepherds as to kings.
let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string,
in lordly lighted ha':
the shepherd stops his simple reed,
blythe in the birken shaw.
the princely revel may survey