Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

1. 148. To Miss Logan, With Beattie's Poems 10/24/2014
2. Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux 10/24/2014
3. Rhyming Reply To A Note From Captain Riddell 10/24/2014
4. To Miss Ferrier, Enclosing Elegy On Sir J. H. Blair 10/24/2014
5. Elegy On Willie Nicol's Mare 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 The Rev. John M'Math 10/25/2014
9. Epitaph On John Rankine 10/25/2014
10. Lines On The Author's Death 10/25/2014
11. Epitaph For Mr. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer 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. Second Epistle To J. Lapraik 10/25/2014
15. The Captain's Lady 10/25/2014
16. Lament For James, Earl Of Glencairn 10/25/2014
17. Lines Written Under The Picture Of Miss Burns 10/25/2014
18. Epigram—thanks For A National Victory 10/25/2014
19. Epistle From Esopus To Maria 10/25/2014
20. Prologue, Spoken By Mr. Woods At Edinburgh 10/25/2014
21. Epigram On An Innkeeper (&Quot;The Marquis&Quot;) 10/25/2014
22. Second Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry 10/25/2014
23. The Fête Champêtre 10/25/2014
24. Fragment—wee Willie Gray 10/25/2014
25. To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, Recommending A Boy 10/27/2014
26. Epitaph For Robert Aiken, Esq. 10/27/2014
27. To Mr. M'Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan 10/25/2014
28. Sonnet On The Death Of Robert Riddell 10/27/2014
29. The Mauchline Lady: A Fragment 10/27/2014
30. Epistle To John Rankine 11/6/2014
31. Sonnet To R. Graham, Esq., On Receiving A Favour 11/6/2014
32. Craigieburn Wood 11/6/2014
33. Epitaph On William Hood, Senior 11/6/2014
34. Epitaph For Mr. William Michie, Schoolmaster 11/6/2014
35. Inscribed On A Work Of Hannah More's 11/6/2014
36. Epigram To Miss Jean Scott 11/11/2014
37. Inscription For The Headstone Of Fergusson The Poet 11/11/2014
38. Election Ballad For Westerha' 11/14/2014
39. Song—yonder Pomp Of Costly Fashion 11/14/2014
40. Written In Friars' Carse Hermitage (Second Version) 11/14/2014

Comments about Robert Burns

  • Sandra MacLean (9/17/2018 10:22:00 AM)

    My grandfather Kennedy used to play around Robbie Burns' cottage.

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  • Alex McD (8/15/2018 2:19:00 PM)

    My father sang red red rose to my mother on their wedding day in 1963 and I read it to my wife on our wedding day at Edinburgh castle in 1998

  • Ruta Mohapatra Ruta Mohapatra (7/3/2018 12:33:00 PM)

    ' A red, red rose' is my favorite Burns poem. So romantic!

  • Brenda breunig (5/12/2018 7:51:00 PM)

    About wonder things like roses

  • Peter Williams (4/30/2018 4:43:00 AM)

    Sounds like a versión of the Selkirk Grace

  • Wayne Kelder (3/19/2018 6:13:00 PM)

    My father-in-law used to recite a poem every thanksgiving about we have food and we have drink and so the Lord we thanketh. Does anyone know if that is 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.

  • glenda barber (2/9/2018 1:01:00 PM)

    Apoem containing the words Birchwood on a dark night

  • anonymous (2/1/2018 11:14:00 AM)

    Hey,
    Is there any Robert burns poems on swimming?

  • robert burns (2/1/2018 8:03:00 AM)

    this is Robert Burnses ghost

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

John Anderson My Jo

John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent;
But now your brow is bled, John,
Your locks are like the straw,
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo!

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