Robert Burns

(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Robert Burns Poems

281. Song—i'M O'Er Young To Marry Yet 11/14/2014
282. Song—o Were My Love You Lilac Fair 11/15/2014
283. The Inventory 11/15/2014
284. A Tippling Ballad—when Princes And Prelates, Etc. 10/24/2014
285. Impromptu On Mrs. Riddell's Birthday 10/25/2014
286. To John Kennedy, Dumfries House 10/25/2014
287. Lovely Polly Stewart 10/25/2014
288. Epitaph For William Nicol, High School, Edinburgh 10/25/2014
289. Yon Wild Mossy Mountains 10/25/2014
290. Epigram On A Country Laird (Cardoness) 11/15/2014
291. Song—on A Bank Of Flowers 11/15/2014
292. Epitaph On My Ever Honoured Father 10/24/2014
293. Epitaph On A Lap-Dog 11/14/2014
294. Jamie, Come Try Me 10/27/2014
295. The Laddie's Dear Sel' 10/27/2014
296. The Lament 11/15/2014
297. Song—whistle And I'Ll Come To You 11/15/2014
298. Song—the Highland Balou 11/14/2014
299. Stanzas On Naething 11/14/2014
300. Fragment Of Song—&Quot;My Jean!&Quot; 11/15/2014
301. Birthday Ode For 31st December, 1787 10/25/2014
302. The Whistle: A Ballad 10/25/2014
303. Inscription To Chloris 10/24/2014
304. A Grace After Dinner 10/24/2014
305. A Grace After Dinner 10/24/2014
306. My Girl She's Airy: A Fragment 10/24/2014
307. My Bonie Bell 10/24/2014
308. How Cruel Are The Parents 10/24/2014
309. Inconstancy In Love 10/25/2014
310. Another On The Said Occasion 10/25/2014
311. To Ruin 10/25/2014
312. Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair 10/25/2014
313. Lines Written On A Bank-Note 11/15/2014
314. The Bookworms 11/14/2014
315. Bonie Jean: A Ballad 11/15/2014
316. Epigram On Politics 11/15/2014
317. Address To Beelzebub 11/15/2014
318. A Prayer Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish 10/25/2014
319. Verses On A Parting Kiss 10/25/2014
320. Mally's Meek, Mally's Sweet 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

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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