Robert Burns

250. Song-She's Fair and Fause

SHE’S fair and fause that causes my smart, I lo’ed her meikle and lang; She’s broken her vow, she’s broken my heart, And I may e’en gae hang. A coof cam in wi’ routh

102. To a Mountain Daisy

WEE, modest crimson-tippèd flow’r, Thou’s met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem: To spare thee now is past my pow’r, Thou bonie gem. Alas! it’s

326. Song-The Posie

O LUVE will venture in where it daur na weel be seen, O luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been; But I will doun yon river rove, amang the wood sae green,

200. Song-The Young Highland Rover

LOUD blaw the frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes, Since my young Highland rover Far wanders nations over. Where’er he go, where’er he stray, May heaven be his

360. Song-Ae fond Kiss

AE fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While

For a' that and a' that

Is there, for honest Poverty That hings his head, and a’ that; The coward-slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that! For a’ that, and a’ that, Our toils obscure,

88. The Author's Earnest Cry and Prayer

YE Irish lords, ye knights an’ squires, Wha represent our brughs an’ shires, An’ doucely manage our affairs In parliament, To you a simple poet’s pray’rs Are humbly sent. Alas! my roupit Muse is

469. Song-Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes

Chorus.-Ca’the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonie Dearie. HARK the mavis’ e’ening sang, Sounding Clouden’s woods amang; Then a-faulding let us gang,

41. Epistle to John Rankine

O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankine, The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drinkin! There’s mony godly folks are thinkin, Your dreams and tricks Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin Straught to auld Nick’s. Ye hae

522. Song-The Cardin o't, the Spinning o't

I COFT a stane o’ haslock woo’, To mak a wab to Johnie o’t; For Johnie is my only jo, I loe him best of onie yet. Chorus.-The cardin’ o’t, the spinnin’ o’t, The

138. Address to the Toothache

MY curse upon your venom’d stang, That shoots my tortur’d gums alang, An’ thro’ my lug gies mony a twang, Wi’ gnawing vengeance, Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang, Like racking engines! When fevers

439. Song-My Spouse Nancy

“HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, Sir; Tho’ I am your wedded wife Yet I am not your slave, Sir.” “One of two must still obey, Nancy, Nancy; Is it Man

78. Epitaph for James Smith

LAMENT him, Mauchline husbands a’, He aften did assist ye; For had ye staid hale weeks awa, Your wives they ne’er had miss’d ye. Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye press To school in

153. Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet

NO 1 sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, “No storied urn nor animated bust;” This simple stone directs pale Scotia’s way, To pour her sorrows o’er the Poet’s dust. ADDITIONAL STANZASShe mourns, sweet tuneful

399. Song-Open the door to me, oh

OH, open the door, some pity to shew, Oh, open the door to me, oh, Tho’ thou hast been false, I’ll ever prove true, Oh, open the door to me, oh. Cauld is the
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