Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

1. Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux 10/24/2014
2. Rhyming Reply To A Note From Captain Riddell 10/24/2014
3. To Miss Ferrier, Enclosing Elegy On Sir J. H. Blair 10/24/2014
4. Elegy On Willie Nicol's Mare 10/24/2014
5. Willie Brew'D A Peck O' Maut 10/24/2014
6. To Alex. Cunningham, Esq., Writer, Edinburgh 10/24/2014
7. Impromptu On Dumourier's Desertion Of The French Republican Army 10/25/2014
8. Epistle To William Simson 10/25/2014
9. Epistle To The Rev. John M'Math 10/25/2014
10. Epitaph On John Rankine 10/25/2014
11. Lines On The Author's Death 10/25/2014
12. Lines Inscribed In A Lady's Pocket Almanack 10/25/2014
13. Fragment—altho' He Has Left Me 10/25/2014
14. Epitaph For Mr. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer 10/25/2014
15. To John Kennedy, Dumfries House 10/25/2014
16. Second Epistle To J. Lapraik 10/25/2014
17. The Captain's Lady 10/25/2014
18. Lament For James, Earl Of Glencairn 10/25/2014
19. Lines Written Under The Picture Of Miss Burns 10/25/2014
20. Epigram—thanks For A National Victory 10/25/2014
21. Epistle From Esopus To Maria 10/25/2014
22. Prologue, Spoken By Mr. Woods At Edinburgh 10/25/2014
23. Epigram On An Innkeeper (&Quot;The Marquis&Quot;) 10/25/2014
24. Second Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry 10/25/2014
25. The Gowden Locks Of Anna 10/25/2014
26. The Fête Champêtre 10/25/2014
27. Fragment—wee Willie Gray 10/25/2014
28. To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, Recommending A Boy 10/27/2014
29. Epitaph For Robert Aiken, Esq. 10/27/2014
30. To Mr. M'Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan 10/25/2014
31. Sonnet On The Death Of Robert Riddell 10/27/2014
32. Hey, The Dusty Miller 10/27/2014
33. The Mauchline Lady: A Fragment 10/27/2014
34. Epistle To John Rankine 11/6/2014
35. Sonnet To R. Graham, Esq., On Receiving A Favour 11/6/2014
36. Craigieburn Wood 11/6/2014
37. Epitaph On William Hood, Senior 11/6/2014
38. Epitaph For Mr. William Michie, Schoolmaster 11/6/2014
39. Inscribed On A Work Of Hannah More's 11/6/2014
40. Epigram To Miss Jean Scott 11/11/2014

Comments about Robert Burns

  • h dog (11/21/2017 10:49:00 AM)

    i hate poems i'm here for a English project ya'll nerds

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • h dog (11/21/2017 10:48:00 AM)

    i hate poems i'm here for a English project ya'll r nerds

  • Aina  Tumininu Aina Tumininu (11/22/2016 2:18:00 AM)

    I love these poems

  • Satan Satan (10/7/2016 3:56:00 AM)

    these poems r gr9 well done robert x

  • Kenneth Bowen (6/30/2016 2:31:00 AM)

    The audio for To a Mouse is atrocious. Wi' should be pronounced wi (as in with excluding the th sound) not W I; the same for na which stands for not, instead of N A. I can't believe you let this be published.
    I expected a true Scottish rendition, not someone's feeble attempt. Also, the reader knows absolutely nothing about reading poetry.

  • Cj Mcwilliam Cj Mcwilliam (1/25/2016 5:07:00 AM)

    Scotch is actually the Scottish word for Scots, but the language itself actually differs depending on which area you're in, I think Burns spoke Doric.

  • Robert Buchanan (7/17/2015 10:31:00 PM)

    Stephen he may well have been drinking Scotch but as Jennifer says the language is Scots or Auld Scots and it was not so much the language which was suppressed but the culture of the people, the music and the dress but to give two examples. Robert Burns was a remarkable man, his breath may have stopped but his voice is still heard.

  • Jennifer Barker (5/21/2015 12:02:00 PM)

    The language is actually Scots, not Scotch (as in the whisky) . It is a 800+ year old language.

  • Stephen W (1/1/2014 5:22:00 PM)

    @Ryan Walker: he was writing in Scotch, a perfectly respectable language, later suppressed by a tyrannical government.

  • Ryan Walker (1/26/2012 12:13:00 PM)

    Interesting. His poetry reminds me of when I read Mark Twain's Huckelberry Finn. It's a great use of broken and common language. It certainly adds an aspect to his poetry.

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

To A Louse

On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church

Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

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