Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Song—my Collier Laddie
WHARE live ye, my bonie lass?And tell me what they ca' ye;My name, she says, is mistress Jean,And I follow the Collier laddie.My name, she says..
© Robert Burns
Verses Written With A Pencil At The Inn At Kenmore
ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace,These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;O'er many a winding dale and painful steep,Th' abodes of covey'd..
© Robert Burns
The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie
O A' ye pious godly flocks,Weel fed on pastures orthodox,Wha now will keep you frae the fox,Or worrying tykes?Or wha will tent the waifs an'..
© Robert Burns
Ode For General Washington's Birthday
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell,No lyre Æolian I awake;'Tis liberty's bold note I swell,Thy harp, Columbia, let me take!See gathering thousands..
© Robert Burns
Song—the Bonie Moor-Hen
THE HEATHER was blooming, the meadows were mawn,Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn,O'er moors and o'er mosses and mony a glen,At length they..
© Robert Burns
Song—of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw
OF 1 a' the airts the wind can blaw,I dearly like the west,For there the bonie lassie lives,The lassie I lo'e best:There's wild-woods grow, and..
© Robert Burns
Complimentary Epigram To Mrs. Riddell
"PRAISE Woman still," his lordship roars,"Deserv'd or not, no matter?"But thee, whom all my soul adores,Ev'n Flattery cannot flatter:Maria, all my..
© Robert Burns
Song—had I A Cave
HAD I a cave on some wild distant shore,Where the winds howl to the wave's dashing roar:There would I weep my woes,There seek my lost repose,Till..
© Robert Burns
On A Scotch Bard, Gone To The West Indies
A' YE wha live by sowps o' drink,A' ye wha live by crambo-clink,A' ye wha live and never think,Come, mourn wi' me!Our billie 's gien us a' a jink,An'..
© Robert Burns
Grace Before And After Meat
O LORD, when hunger pinches sore,Do thou stand us in stead,And send us, from thy bounteous store,A tup or wether head! Amen.————O Lord, since we have..
© Robert Burns
Stanzas, On The Same Occasion
WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene?Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between—Some gleams of..
© Robert Burns
Address Spoken By Miss Fontenelle
STILL anxious to secure your partial favour,And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever,A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter,'Twould vamp..
© Robert Burns
Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 1
WHOM will you send to London town,To Parliament and a' that?Or wha in a' the country roundThe best deserves to fa' that?For a' that, and a'..
© Robert Burns
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..
© Robert Burns
Song—guid Ale Keeps The Heart Aboon
Chorus—O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;Gude ale gars me sell my hose,Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon—Gude ale keeps my heart aboon!I HAD sax owsen..
© Robert Burns
Song—by Allan Stream
BY Allan stream I chanc'd to rove,While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;The winds are whispering thro' the grove,The yellow corn was waving ready:I..
© Robert Burns
Frae The Friends And Land I Love
FRAE the friends and land I love,Driv'n by Fortune's felly spite;Frae my best belov'd I rove,Never mair to taste delight:Never mair maun hope to..
© Robert Burns
Scroggam, My Dearie
THERE was a wife wonn'd in Cockpen,Scroggam;She brew'd gude ale for gentlemen;Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me,Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum.The..
© Robert Burns
Versified Reply To An Invitation
SIR,Yours this moment I unseal,And faith I'm gay and hearty!To tell the truth and shame the deil,I am as fou as Bartie:But Foorsday, sir, my promise..
© Robert Burns
Epitaph On James Grieve
HERE lies Boghead amang the deadIn hopes to get salvation;But if such as he in Heav'n may be,Then welcome, hail! damnation.
© Robert Burns
Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Here
FORLORN, my Love, no comfort near,Far, far from thee, I wander here;Far, far from thee, the fate severe,At which I most repine, Love.Chorus.—O wert..
© Robert Burns
On Elphinstone's Translation Of Martial's Epigrams
O THOU whom Poetry abhors,Whom Prose has turnèd out of doors,Heard'st thou yon groan?—proceed no further,'Twas laurel'd Martial calling murther.
© Robert Burns
My Lord A-Hunting He Is Gane
Chorus.—MY lady's gown, there's gairs upon't,And gowden flowers sae rare upon't;But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,My lord thinks meikle mair upon't.My..
© Robert Burns
152. Extempore In The Court Of Session
LORD ADVOCATEHE clenched his pamphlet in his fist,He quoted and he hinted,Till, in a declamation-mist,His argument he tint it:He gapèd for't, he..
© Robert Burns
Death And Dr. Hornbook
SOME books are lies frae end to end,And some great lies were never penn'd:Ev'n ministers they hae been kenn'd,In holy rapture,A rousing whid at times..
© Robert Burns