Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

241. Song—beware O' Bonie Ann 11/14/2014
242. Song—braving Angry Winer's Storms 11/14/2014
243. Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots 11/14/2014
244. The Bard At Inverary 11/11/2014
245. On The Late Captain Grose's Peregrinations 11/15/2014
246. Song—anna, Thy Charms 11/14/2014
247. Song—stay My Charmer 11/15/2014
248. Mr. William Smellie: A Sketch 11/15/2014
249. On Glenriddell's Fox Breaking His Chain 11/15/2014
250. Song—sic A Wife As Willie Had 11/15/2014
251. Apology To Mr. Syme For Not Dining With Him 11/15/2014
252. Song—the Lass Of Cessnock Banks 11/15/2014
253. Song—kissing My Katie 10/27/2014
254. What Can A Young Lassie Do Wi' An Auld Man? 11/15/2014
255. Here's To Thy Health, My Bonie Lass 11/11/2014
256. The Bonie Lass Of Albany 10/25/2014
257. Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper 10/25/2014
258. The Winter It Is Past 10/25/2014
259. She's Fair And Fause 10/25/2014
260. Go On, Sweet Bird, And Soothe My Care 10/25/2014
261. Lovely Young Jessie 10/25/2014
262. Remorseful Apology 10/24/2014
263. A Grace After Meat 10/24/2014
264. No Churchman Am I 10/24/2014
265. The Charming Month Of May 10/24/2014
266. The Banks Of The Devon 11/6/2014
267. The Solemn League And Covenant 11/15/2014
268. Song—fragment—there Was A Bonie Lass 11/15/2014
269. Address To The Unco Guid 11/15/2014
270. Song—&Quot;Indeed Will I,&Quot; Quo' Findlay 11/15/2014
271. Fragment Of Song—the Night Was Still 11/15/2014
272. Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet 11/15/2014
273. The Epitaph On Captain Matthew Henderson 11/15/2014
274. Song—mary Morison 11/15/2014
275. The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water 11/15/2014
276. Song—o Were My Love You Lilac Fair 11/15/2014
277. The Inventory 11/15/2014
278. Song—i'M O'Er Young To Marry Yet 11/14/2014
279. A Tippling Ballad—when Princes And Prelates, Etc. 10/24/2014
280. Impromptu On Mrs. Riddell's Birthday 10/25/2014

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.

  • 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

Address To The Unco Guid

My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An' lump them aye thegither;
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither:
The cleanest corn that ere was dight
May hae some pyles o' caff in;
So ne'er a fellow creature slight
For random fits o' daffin.
Solomon.--Eccles. ch. vii. verse 16

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