Robert Burns

Related poetry:

1. An Address to Shakespeare Immortal! William Shakespeare, there’s none can you excel, You have drawn out your characters remarkably well, Which is delightful for to see enacted upon the stage For instance, the love-sick Romeo, or Othello, in a rage; His writings are a treasure, which the world cannot repay, He was the greatest poet of the past or […]...
2. The Burns Statue This Statue, I must confess, is magnificent to see, And I hope will long be appreciated by the people of Dundee; It has been beautifully made by Sir John Steell, And I hope the pangs of hunger he will never feel. This statue is most elegant in its design, And I hope will defy all […]...
3. 431. Song-Robert Bruce's March to Bannockburn SCOTS, wha hae wi’ WALLACE bled, Scots, wham BRUCE has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; See the front o’ battle lour; See approach proud EDWARD’S power- Chains and Slaverie! Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward’s grave? Wha sae […]...
4. Ode to the Memory of Burns Soul of the Poet! wheresoe’er, Reclaimed from earth, thy genius plume Her wings of immortality ; Suspend thy harp in happier sphere, And with thine influence illume The gladness of our jubilee. And fly like fiends from secret spell, Discord and Strife, at Burn’s name, Exorcised by his memory ; For he was chief of […]...
5. Adventures of King Robert the Bruce King Robert the Bruce’s deadly enemy, John of Lorn, Joined the English with eight hundred Highlanders one morn, All strong, hardy, and active fearless mountaineers, But Bruce’s men attacked them with swords and spears. And while they were engaged, a new enemy burst upon them, Like a torrent of water rushing down a rocky glen: […]...
6. Silence is in Our Festal Halls Silence is in our festal halls Sweet son of song! thy course is o’er; In vain on thee sad Erin calls, Her minstrel’s voice responds no more; All silent as the Eolian shell Sleeps at the close of some bright day, When the sweet breeze, that waked its swell At sunny morn, hath died away. […]...
7. 365. Lines on Fergusson, the Poet ILL-FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson! What heart that feels and will not yield a tear, To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun To shed its influence on thy bright career. O why should truest Worth and Genius pine Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe, While titled knaves and idiot-Greatness shine In all […]...
8. Robert William Service – Laughter I Laugh at Life: its antics make for me a giddy games, Where only foolish fellows take themselves with solemn aim. I laugh at pomp and vanity, at riches, rank and pride; At social inanity, at swager, swank and side. At poets, pastry-cooks and kings, at folk sublime and small, Who fuss about a thousand […]...
9. The British Church I joy, dear mother, when I view Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both sweet and bright. Beauty in thee takes up her place, And dates her letters from thy face, When she doth write. A fine aspect in fit array, Neither too mean nor yet too gay, Shows who is best. Outlandish looks may not […]...
10. Bonnie Dundee in 1878 Oh, Bonnie Dundee! I will sing in thy praise A few but true simple lays, Regarding some of your beauties of the present day And virtually speaking, there’s none can them gainsay; There’s no other town I know of with you can compare For spinning mills and lasses fair, And for stately buildings there’s none […]...
11. 278. On the late Captain Grose's Peregrinations HEAR, Land o’ Cakes, and brither Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat’s;- If there’s a hole in a’ your coats, I rede you tent it: A chield’s amang you takin notes, And, faith, he’ll prent it: If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat fodgel wight, O’ stature short, but genius […]...
12. To Robert Browning There is delight in singing, though none hear Beside the singer; and there is delight In praising, though the praiser sits alone And see the praised far off him, far above. Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world’s, Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee, Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale […]...
13. Love's Young Dream Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart’s chain wove; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come, Of milder calmer beam, But there’s nothing half so sweet in life As love’s young dream: No, there’s nothing half so sweet […]...
14. Everybody is an Ezing! everybody is an Ezing to themselves! Oh yes, because reality does not exist, Oh no, even when it seems so. Only action happens, even when it doesn’t. And it does not matter, even when it so appears. It is opinion that matters, and opinion alone, It still matters when it doesn’t so appear. As to […]...
15. To Robert Batty, M. D., on His Giving Me a Lock of Milton's Hair It lies before me there, and my own breath Stirs its thin outer threads, as though beside The living head I stood in honoured pride, Talking of lovely things that conquer death. Perhaps he pressed it once, or underneath Ran his fine fingers when he leant, blank-eyed, And saw in fancy Adam and his bride […]...
16. 351. Second Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry LATE crippl’d of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected, and deprest (Nature is adverse to a cripple’s rest); Will generous Graham list to his Poet’s wail? (It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale) And hear him curse the light he first […]...
17. The Lamp burns sure within The Lamp burns sure within Tho’ Serfs supply the Oil It matters not the busy Wick At her phosphoric toil! The Slave forgets to fill The Lamp burns golden on Unconscious that the oil is out As that the Slave is gone....
18. LET EZRA POUND SPEAK If you have nothing to say keep silent Let Ezra Pound speak From the shadows the splendid old man From the fine water line The magnificent old man Shows you the genuine banknotes of his fortune And all shine legitimate fish Of an infinite river which indeed Never stops. If you have nothing to say […]...
19. Genius Genius, like gold and precious stones, Is chiefly prized because of its rarity. Geniuses are people who dash of weird, wild, Incomprehensible poems with astonishing facility, And get booming drunk and sleep in the gutter. Genius elevates its possessor to ineffable spheres Far above the vulgar world and fills his soul With regal contempt for […]...
20. Though Humble the Banquet Though humble the banquet to which I invite thee, Thou’lt find there the best a poor bard can command; Eyes, beaming with welcome, shall throng round, to light thee, And Love serve the feast with his own willing hand. And though Fortune may seem to have turn’d from the dwelling Of him thou regardest her […]...
21. A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay Beautiful silvery Tay, With your landscapes, so lovely and gay, Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way; No other river in the world has got scenery more fine, Only I am told the beautiful Rhine, Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine, Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its […]...
22. The Poet The riches of the poet are equal to his poetry His power is his left hand It is idle weak and precious His poverty is his wealth, a wealth which may destroy him like Midas Because it is that laziness which is a form of impatience And this he may be destroyed by the gold […]...
23. On The Death Of Mr. Robert Levet, A Practiser In Physic CONDEMN’D to Hope’s delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts or slow decline Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, See Levet to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend. Yet still he fills affection’s eye, Obscurely wise and […]...
24. Once there was a man Once there was a man Oh, so wise! In all drink He detected the bitter, And in all touch He found the sting. At last he cried thus: “There is nothing No life, No joy, No pain There is nothing save opinion, And opinion be damned.”...
25. The Miraculous Escape of Robert Allan, the Fireman ‘Twas in the year of 1858, and on October the fourteenth day, That a fire broke out in a warehouse, and for hours blazed away; And the warehouse, now destroyed, was occupied by the Messrs R. Wylie, Hill & Co., Situated in Buchanan Street, in the City of Glasgow. The flames burst forth about three […]...
26. A Match If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together In sad or singing weather, Blown fields or flowerful closes, Green pasture or gray grief; If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf. If I were what the words are, And love […]...
27. 459. Sonnet on the Death of Robert Riddell NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in thy verdant stole, More welcome were to me grim Winter’s wildest roar. How can ye charm, ye flowers, with all your dyes? Ye blow upon the sod that wraps my friend! How can […]...
28. Control O Hunger, Hunger, I will harness thee And make thee harrow all my spirit’s glebe. Of old the blind bard Herve sang so sweet He made a wolf to plow his land....
29. Night The sun descending in the west. The evening star does shine. The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine, The moon like a flower, In heavens high bower; With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night. Farewell green fields and happy groves, Where flocks have took delight; Where lambs […]...
30. Poet And Peer They asked the Bard of Ayr to dine; The banquet hall was fit and fine, With gracing it a Lord; The poet came; his face was grim To find the place reserved for him Was at the butler’s board. So when the gentry called him in, He entered with a knavish grin And sipped a […]...
31. Lord Robert's Triumphal Entry into Pretoria ‘Twas in the year of 1900, and on the 5th of June, Lord Roberts entered Pretoria in the afternoon; His triumphal entry was magnificent to see, The British Army marching behind him fearlessly. With their beautiful banners unfurled to the breeze, But the scene didn’t the Boers please; And they immediately made some show of […]...
32. A Canvas For A Crust Aye, Montecelli, that’s the name. You may have heard of him perhaps. Yet though he never savoured fame, Of those impressionistic chaps, Monet and Manet and Renoir He was the avatar. He festered in a Marseilles slum, A starving genius, god-inspired. You’d take him for a lousy bum, Tho’ poetry of paint he lyred, In […]...
33. FOR EVER THE happiness that man, whilst prison’d here, Is wont with heavenly rapture to compare, The harmony of Truth, from wavering clear, Of Friendship that is free from doubting care, The light which in stray thoughts alone can cheer The wise, the bard alone in visions fair, In my best hours I found in her all […]...
34. A High-Toned Old Christian Woman Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame. Take the moral law and make a nave of it And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus, The conscience is converted into palms, Like windy citherns hankering for hymns. We agree in principle. That’s clear. But take The opposing law and make a peristyle, And from the peristyle […]...
35. The Tyger Tyger Tyger. burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye. Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews […]...
36. Thee, Thee, Only Thee The dawning of morn, the daylight’s sinking, The night’s long hours still find me thinking Of thee, thee, only thee. When friends are met, and goblets crown’d, And smiles are near, that once enchanted, Unreach’d by all that sunshine round, My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted By thee, thee, only thee. Whatever in […]...
37. Oh, the Shamrock Through Erin’s Isle To sport awhile As Love and Valour wander’d, With Wit, the sprite, Whose quiver bright A thousand arrows squander’d; Where’er they pass, A triple grass Shoots up, with dew-drops streaming, As softly green As emeralds seen Through purest crystal gleaming. Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! Chosen leaf Of Bard and […]...
38. The City of Perth Beautiful Ancient City of Perth, One of the fairest on the earth, With your stately mansions and scenery most fine, Which seems very beautiful in the summer time; And the beautiful silvery Tay, Rolling smoothly on its way, And glittering like silver in the sunshine – And the Railway Bridge across it is really sublime. […]...
39. O'Donohue's Mistress Of all the fair months, that round the sun In light-link’d dance their circles run, Sweet May, shine thou for me; For still, when thy earliest beams arise, That youth, who beneath the blue lake lies, Sweet May, returns to me. Of all the bright haunts, where daylight leaves Its lingering smile on golden eves, […]...
40. Scots, Wha Hae Wi' Wallace Bled Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; See the front o’ battle lour, See approach proud Edward’s power – Chains and slavery! Wha will be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward’s grave? Wha sae […]...