Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

401. Tibbie Dunbar 1/13/2003
402. The Battle Of Sherramuir 1/1/2004
403. Epistle To A Young Friend 3/29/2010
404. Address Tothe Devil 3/29/2010
405. Paraphrase Of The First Psalm 12/31/2002
406. Verses To Clarinda 12/31/2002
407. Ye Flowery Banks (Bonie Doon) 12/31/2002
408. The Bonie Wee Thing 1/1/2004
409. Tear-Drop, The 12/31/2002
410. My Last Farewell To Stirling 3/29/2010
411. O Thou Dread Power 12/31/2002
412. Oh Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast 1/13/2003
413. A Vision 11/15/2014
414. Epistle To J. Lapraik (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
415. Of A' The Airts 12/31/2002
416. Rigs O' Barley, The 12/31/2002
417. Last May A Braw Wooer 12/31/2002
418. The Lass That Made The Bed To Me 1/1/2004
419. My Nannie, O 1/1/2004
420. The Wounded Hare 12/31/2002
421. Tragic Fragment 12/31/2002
422. For A' That 3/29/2010
423. From Lines To William Simson 5/13/2001
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. Holy Fair, The 12/31/2002
430. Hark! The Mavis 1/4/2003
431. Ye Flowery Banks 1/3/2003
432. To The Wood-Lark 12/31/2002
433. Thou Lingering Star 12/31/2002
434. Bonnie Lesley 5/13/2001
435. Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch Ness 12/31/2002
436. It Was A' For Our Rightful King 5/13/2001
437. Here's To Thy Health 12/31/2002
438. Duncan Gray 5/13/2001
439. First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified, The 5/13/2001
440. Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Approach Of Spring 1/1/2004

Comments about Robert Burns

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

    these poems r gr9 well done robert x

    25 person liked.
    28 person did not like.
  • 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.

    17 person liked.
    32 person did not like.
  • 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.

    27 person liked.
    43 person did not like.
  • 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.

    47 person liked.
    32 person did not like.
  • 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.

    48 person liked.
    33 person did not like.
  • 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.

    184 person liked.
    178 person did not like.
  • 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.

    227 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,

    245 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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