Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

1. 148. To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems 10/24/2014
2. 152. Extempore In The Court Of Session 10/24/2014
3. 314. Song—there'Ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame 10/24/2014
4. 357. A Grace Before Dinner 10/24/2014
5. 379. Song—fragment—love For Love 10/24/2014
6. 89. The Ordination 10/24/2014
7. A Bard's Epitaph 1/1/2004
8. A Bard's Epitaph 11/14/2014
9. A Bottle And Friend 1/1/2004
10. A Dedication 1/1/2004
11. A Dream 1/1/2004
12. A Fiddler In The North 1/1/2004
13. A Fond Kiss 1/3/2003
14. A Grace After Dinner 10/24/2014
15. A Grace After Dinner 10/24/2014
16. A Grace After Meat 10/24/2014
17. A Health To Them That's Awa 10/27/2014
18. A Man's A Man For A' That 5/13/2001
19. A Mother's Lament For Her Son's Death 10/24/2014
20. A Poets's Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter 5/13/2001
21. A Prayer In The Prospect Of Death 10/24/2014
22. A Prayer Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish 10/25/2014
23. A Red, Red Rose 5/13/2001
24. A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk 10/24/2014
25. A Tippling Ballad—when Princes And Prelates, Etc. 10/24/2014
26. A Vision 11/15/2014
27. A Winter Night 5/13/2001
28. Address Spoken By Miss Fontenelle 11/15/2014
29. Address To A Haggis 12/31/2002
30. Address To Beelzebub 11/15/2014
31. Address To The Devil 5/13/2001
32. Address To The Tooth-Ache 5/13/2001
33. Address To The Unco Guid 1/1/2004
34. Address To The Unco Guid 11/15/2014
35. Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee 10/25/2014
36. Address Tothe Devil 3/29/2010
37. Ae Fond Kiss 5/13/2001
38. Afton Water 5/13/2001
39. Ah, Woe Is Me, My Mother Dear 5/13/2001
40. Airlin's Fine Braes 3/29/2010
Best Poem of Robert Burns

A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

Read the full of A Red, Red Rose

Banks O' Doon, The

Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

[Hata Bildir]