Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

81. Song—fragment—damon And Sylvia 11/15/2014
82. Song—a Health To Ane I Loe Dear 11/15/2014
83. Epistle To John Goldie, In Kilmarnock 11/15/2014
84. Epigram On A Swearing Coxcomb 11/15/2014
85. Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer 11/15/2014
86. Song—phillis The Fair 11/15/2014
87. Elegy On Captain Matthew Henderson 11/15/2014
88. Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 2 11/15/2014
89. Epistle To John Maxwell, Esq., Of Terraughty 11/15/2014
90. Song—blythe Hae I Been On Yon Hill 11/15/2014
91. Song—kellyburn Braes 11/15/2014
92. Song—such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation 11/15/2014
93. Song—out Over The Forth 11/15/2014
94. Song—down The Burn, Davie Love 11/15/2014
95. Song—my Native Land Sae Far Awa 11/15/2014
96. I'Ll Go And Be A Sodger 11/15/2014
97. Prayer—o Thou Dread Power 11/15/2014
98. Song—to Daunton Me 11/15/2014
99. Song—highland Harry Back Again 11/15/2014
100. Here's His Health In Water 11/15/2014
101. What Can A Young Lassie Do Wi' An Auld Man? 11/15/2014
102. Song—my Nanie's Awa 11/14/2014
103. Scots Prologue For Mr. Sutherland 11/14/2014
104. Song—the Rigs O' Barley 11/14/2014
105. Epitaph For Mr. W. Cruickshank 11/6/2014
106. The First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified 11/14/2014
107. Here's To Thy Health, My Bonie Lass 11/11/2014
108. O Leave Novels! 11/6/2014
109. O Aye My Wife She Dang Me 10/27/2014
110. Epistle To Mrs. Scott Of Wauchope House 10/27/2014
111. Saw You My Dear, My Philly 10/27/2014
112. The Calf 10/25/2014
113. Inscription For An Alter Of Independence 10/25/2014
114. Fickle Fortune: A Fragment 10/25/2014
115. Epigram On Dr. Babington's Looks 10/25/2014
116. Sylvander To Clarinda 10/25/2014
117. Epitaph On A Henpecked Squire 10/25/2014
118. The Bonie Lass Of Albany 10/25/2014
119. The Dean Of Faculty: A New Ballad 10/25/2014
120. Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine 10/25/2014

Comments about Robert Burns

  • h dog (11/21/2017 10:48:00 AM)

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

    10 person liked.
    23 person did not like.
  • 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.

  • 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,

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!

[Report Error]