Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

161. Willie Brew'D A Peck O' Maut 10/24/2014
162. Epistle To William Simson 10/25/2014
163. The Gowden Locks Of Anna 10/25/2014
164. Hey, The Dusty Miller 10/27/2014
165. Song—in The Character Of A Ruined Farmer 11/14/2014
166. Song—crowdie Ever Mair 11/14/2014
167. On The Birth Of A Posthumous Child 11/15/2014
168. Song—braw Lads O' Gala Water 11/15/2014
169. The Poet's Progress 11/15/2014
170. Song—bonie Peggy Alison 11/15/2014
171. Inscription To Jessie Lewars 11/15/2014
172. Song—talk Of Him That's Far Awa 11/15/2014
173. Fragment—her Flwoing Locks 11/6/2014
174. Song—lady Mary Ann 11/14/2014
175. Song—charlie, He's My Darling 11/14/2014
176. Epigram On Rough Roads 11/11/2014
177. The Wounded Hare 11/6/2014
178. Song—fragment—johnie Lad, Cock Up Your Beaver 11/6/2014
179. News, Lassies, News 10/25/2014
180. Behold The Hour, The Boat, Arrive 10/25/2014
181. You'Re Welcome, Willie Stewart 10/27/2014
182. Epigram To Miss Ainslie In Church 10/27/2014
183. Elegy On Stella 11/15/2014
184. Song—the Captive Ribband 11/15/2014
185. Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell 11/15/2014
186. Epigram—the Toad-Eater 10/25/2014
187. Epitaph On The Same 10/25/2014
188. Epistle To Hugh Parker 10/25/2014
189. Suppressed Stanzas Of &Quot;The Vision&Quot; 10/25/2014
190. Epigram—the True Loyal Natives 10/25/2014
191. Poem On Sensibility 10/25/2014
192. Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 4 10/25/2014
193. Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee 10/25/2014
194. Verses On Captain Grose 10/25/2014
195. Tam Samson's Elegy 10/25/2014
196. To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J——n, On Her Principles Of Liberty And Eqality 10/24/2014
197. Masonic Song—ye Sons Of Old Killie 10/24/2014
198. Remorse: A Fragment 10/24/2014
199. The Brigs Of Ayr 10/24/2014
200. On Tam The Chapman 10/24/2014

Comments about Robert Burns

  • Aina  Tumininu Aina Tumininu (11/22/2016 2:18:00 AM)

    I love these poems

    26 person liked.
    26 person did not like.
  • 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

To A Louse

On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church

Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

[Report Error]