Robert Anderson

(1770-1833 / Scotland)

Robert Anderson Poems

1. Enigma The Third 9/23/2010
2. Epigram 9/23/2010
3. Epigram. `the Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man:' 9/23/2010
4. Epistle I. To Robert Burns 9/23/2010
5. Epistle Ii. To A Youthful Friend 9/23/2010
6. Epistle Iii. To A Friend In London 9/23/2010
7. Epistle Iv. To A Young Lady 9/23/2010
8. Epistle The Eighth 9/23/2010
9. Epistle The Eleventh 9/23/2010
10. Epistle The Fifth 9/23/2010
11. Epistle The First 9/23/2010
12. Epistle The Fourth 9/23/2010
13. Epistle The Ninth 9/23/2010
14. Epistle The Second 9/23/2010
15. Epistle The Seventh 9/23/2010
16. Epistle The Sixth 9/23/2010
17. Epistle The Tenth 9/23/2010
18. Epistle The Third 9/23/2010
19. Epistle The Thirteenth 9/23/2010
20. Epistle The Twelfth 9/23/2010
21. Epistle V. To A Young Lady 9/23/2010
22. Epistle Vi. To A Young Lady 9/23/2010
23. Epistle Vii. To A Young Lady 9/23/2010
24. Epistle Viii. To A Friend, In Thanks For His Letter 9/23/2010
25. Epitaph 9/23/2010
26. Epitaph On A Friend 9/23/2010
27. Epitaph On A Wicked Man 9/23/2010
28. Epitaph On Akel Bulbee, 9/23/2010
29. Epitaph On David Bigger, Esq. 9/23/2010
30. Epitaph On Maria Of The Cottage 9/23/2010
31. Epitaph On The Father Of A Friend 9/23/2010
32. Evening 9/23/2010
33. Evening, Or The Shepherds 9/23/2010
34. Fair Margaret’s Bower - Canto The First 9/23/2010
35. Fair Margaret’s Bower - Canto The Second 9/23/2010
36. Fair Margaret’s Bower - Canto The Third 9/23/2010
37. Farewell To Gilsland 9/23/2010
38. Feckless Wully 9/23/2010
39. First Luive 9/23/2010
40. A Character 9/23/2010

Comments about Robert Anderson

  • Ed Heslam (12/31/2017 5:52:00 AM)

    Great song by one of the best Cumbrian poets. Definitely not Scottish as mentioned beside the title.

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Best Poem of Robert Anderson

Crazy Kate

Ah! who is she whose tresses wild,
Bespeak her sorrow's frantic child?
'Tis Kate, whose bosom fraught with woe,
Sweet peace again can never know;
Who, careless, wandering all day long,
Sings to herself this plaintive song:--
``Come Death! thou friend to the distrest,
Srike, strike, at once, this tortur'd breast,
And ease poor Kate, who cannot rest!''

In infancy, her father died:
And she, her mother's only pride,
Was forc'd (hard fate!) at plenty's door
The mite of pity to implore.
But soon, ah! soon an orphan left;
Of ev'ry stay, save Heaven, ...

Read the full of Crazy Kate

An Address


Enough of war! and all his hell--born train;
Britannia rides triumphant o'er the main;
And when sweet peace her olive branch displays,
Then, as in war, she gains all Europe's praise:
For all the glories conquest e'er could dart,
Are trifles, balanc'd with the feeling heart;
And all the honours wealth cou'd e'er bestow,

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