Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

361. My Eppie Macnab 3/29/2010
362. The First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified 3/29/2010
363. The Auld Farmer's New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare , Maggie 1/1/2004
364. To Mary In Heaven 3/29/2010
365. It Was A' For Our Rightfu' King 3/29/2010
366. A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk 10/24/2014
367. Bonie Lesley 3/29/2010
368. The Birks Of Aberfeldy 3/29/2010
369. Ronalds Of The Bennals, The 12/31/2002
370. The Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie 1/1/2004
371. The Ploughman's Life 3/29/2010
372. Sketch—new Year's Day, 1790 11/15/2014
373. The Muckin' O' Geordie's Byre 3/29/2010
374. The Banks O' Doon 1/4/2003
375. Prayer, Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish 12/31/2002
376. Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish 3/29/2010
377. Poor Mailie's Elegy 12/31/2002
378. Song—the Winter It Is Past 3/29/2010
379. Wee Willie Gray 3/29/2010
380. Airlin's Fine Braes 3/29/2010
381. The Lover’s Morning Salute To His Mistress 3/29/2010
382. M'Pherson's Rant 3/29/2010
383. The Holy Fair 3/29/2010
384. To Miss Jessie Lewars 3/29/2010
385. The Slave’s Lament 3/25/2010
386. Ye Jacobites By Name 3/25/2010
387. Here's A Bottle 3/29/2010
388. The Tarbolton Lasses 1/3/2003
389. Ploughman's Life, The 12/31/2002
390. Peggy 12/31/2002
391. Montgomerie's Peggy 12/31/2002
392. Go Fetch To Me A Pint 3/29/2010
393. The Lass Of Cessnock Banks 1/1/2004
394. Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The 5/13/2001
395. The Twa Dogs 3/29/2010
396. Tarbolton Lasses, The 12/31/2002
397. Tibbie Dunbar 1/13/2003
398. The Battle Of Sherramuir 1/1/2004
399. Paraphrase Of The First Psalm 12/31/2002
400. Rigs O' Barley, The 12/31/2002

Comments about Robert Burns

  • 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.

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  • 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.

    229 person liked.
    270 person did not like.
  • Ted Mohr (12/11/2009 11:35:00 AM)

    Your copy of Robert Burns' A Man's a Man for A' That appears to me to have left out one line in the final stanza which when entered would make the 5th and 6th lines read:
    For a' that, an' a' that,
    It’s cuming yet, for a' that,

    246 person liked.
    262 person did not like.
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

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,

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