Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

401. Tarbolton Lasses, The 12/31/2002
402. O Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day 12/31/2002
403. Tibbie Dunbar 1/13/2003
404. The Battle Of Sherramuir 1/1/2004
405. A Vision 11/15/2014
406. Address Tothe Devil 3/29/2010
407. Paraphrase Of The First Psalm 12/31/2002
408. Verses To Clarinda 12/31/2002
409. Ye Flowery Banks (Bonie Doon) 12/31/2002
410. The Bonie Wee Thing 1/1/2004
411. From Lines To William Simson 5/13/2001
412. Tear-Drop, The 12/31/2002
413. My Last Farewell To Stirling 3/29/2010
414. O Thou Dread Power 12/31/2002
415. Oh Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast 1/13/2003
416. Epistle To J. Lapraik (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
417. Of A' The Airts 12/31/2002
418. Last May A Braw Wooer 12/31/2002
419. The Lass That Made The Bed To Me 1/1/2004
420. My Nannie, O 1/1/2004
421. The Wounded Hare 12/31/2002
422. Tragic Fragment 12/31/2002
423. For A' That 3/29/2010
424. The Cotter's Saturday Night 1/3/2003
425. On A Bank Of Flowers 12/31/2002
426. Tam Glen 12/31/2002
427. Bonie Peggy Alison 12/31/2002
428. The Gloomy Night Is Gath'Ring Fast 1/3/2003
429. To The Wood-Lark 12/31/2002
430. Holy Fair, The 12/31/2002
431. Hark! The Mavis 1/4/2003
432. Ye Flowery Banks 1/3/2003
433. Thou Lingering Star 12/31/2002
434. Bonnie Lesley 5/13/2001
435. Robert Bruce's March To Bannockburn 3/29/2010
436. Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch Ness 12/31/2002
437. It Was A' For Our Rightful King 5/13/2001
438. Here's To Thy Health 12/31/2002
439. Duncan Gray 5/13/2001
440. First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified, The 5/13/2001
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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