Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Comments about Robert Burns

  • Margaret-Anne Turner (2/27/2018 5:09:00 PM)

    A short poem re: God and reversing the letters to dog and how dog worships his master puts man to shame.

    3 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • glenda barber (2/9/2018 1:01:00 PM)

    Apoem containing the words Birchwood on a dark night

    3 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • anonymous (2/1/2018 11:14:00 AM)

    Hey,
    Is there any Robert burns poems on swimming?

    6 person liked.
    10 person did not like.
  • robert burns (2/1/2018 8:03:00 AM)

    this is Robert Burnses ghost

    7 person liked.
    13 person did not like.
  • emily (1/31/2018 3:23:00 AM)

    disliking yir poems mate catch yi

    8 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • johnny (1/29/2018 5:38:00 AM)

    horrble i hate poets poems are rubbish

    6 person liked.
    18 person did not like.
  • charlotte (1/25/2018 12:56:00 PM)

    i had so much fun doing to a mouse in my Scottish assembly at school. Robert burns is so inspirational

    9 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Rahul Shil Rahul Shil (1/25/2018 11:29:00 AM)

    Happy Birthday My Lovely Poet

    10 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • Ella - Faye Burns (1/25/2018 10:59:00 AM)

    He is my great great great great great great great grandad

    14 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • alyssia (1/15/2018 3:26:00 PM)

    i go to practise my poem

    9 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
Best Poem of Robert Burns

A Winter Night

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky show'r,
Or whirling drift:

Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
While burns, wi' snawy wreeths upchoked,
Wild-eddying swirl,
Or thro' the mining outlet bocked,
Down headlong hurl.

List'ning, the doors an' winnocks rattle,
I thought me on the ourie cattle,
Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle
...

Read the full of A Winter Night

The Rigs O' Barley

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held away to Annie:
The time flew by wi' tentless heed
Till 'tween the late and early,
Wi' sma' persuasion, she agreed
To see me thro' the barley.
Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,