Braw Lads Of Galla Water.

Tune - "Galla Water."


Chorus.

    Braw, braw lads of Galla Water;
        O braw lads of Galla Water:
    I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,
        And follow my love thro' the water.

I.

    Sae fair her hair, sae brent her brow,
        Sae bonny blue her een, my dearie;
    Sae white her teeth, sae sweet her mou',
        The mair I kiss she's ay my dearie.

II.

    O'er yon bank and o'er yon brae,
        O'er yon moss amang the heather;
    I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,
        And follow my love thro' the water.

III.

    Down amang the broom, the broom,
        Down amang the broom, my dearie,
    The lassie lost a silken snood,
        That cost her mony a blirt and bleary.
                Braw, braw lads of Galla Water;
                    O braw lads of Galla-Water:
                I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,
                    And follow my love thro' the water.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns, also known as Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. Born on January 25, 1759, in Alloway, he is best known for works such as 'Auld Lang Syne,' 'Scots Wha Hae,' and 'A Red, Red Rose.' He passed away on July 21, 1796, in Dumfries.

Robert Burns

Mark Yonder Pomp.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq. Of Fintray: On The Close Of The Disputed Election Between Sir James Johnstone And Captain Miller, For The Dumfries District Of Boroughs.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To Mary Campbell.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Cardin' O'T.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Galla Water.

I.

    There's braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
        That wander thro' the blooming heather;
    But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws
        Can match the lads o' Galla Water.

II.

    But there is ane, a secret ane,
        Aboon them a' I lo'e him better;
    And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
        The bonnie lad o' Galla Water.

III.

    Altho' his daddie was nae laird,
        And tho' I hae nae meikle tocher;
    Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
        We'll tent our flocks by Galla Water.

IV.

    It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
        That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure;
    The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
        O that's the chiefest warld's treasure!

Robert Burns

The Highland Lassie.

Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddy!"


I.

    Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
    Shall ever be my muse's care:
    Their titles a' are empty show;
    Gie me my Highland lassie, O.
            Within the glen sae bushy, O,
            Aboon the plains sae rushy, O,
            I set me down wi' right good-will,
            To sing my Highland lassie, O.

II.

    Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
    Yon palace and yon gardens fine,
    The world then the love should know
    I bear my Highland lassie, O.

III.

    But fickle fortune frowns on me,
    And I maun cross the raging sea;
    But while my crimson currents flow,
    I'll love my Highland lassie, O.

IV.

    A...

Robert Burns

Ca' The Ewes.

Tune - "Ca' the ewes to the knowes."


Chorus

    Ca' the ewes to the knowes,
    Ca' them whare the heather grows,
    Ca' them whare the burnie rowes,
        My bonnie dearie!

I.

    As I gaed down the water-side,
    There I met my shepherd lad,
    He row'd me sweetly in his plaid,
        An' he ca'd me his dearie.

II.

    Will ye gang down the water-side,
    And see the waves sae sweetly glide,
    Beneath the hazels spreading wide?
        The moon it shines fu' clearly.

III.

    I was bred up at nae sic school,
    My shepherd lad, to play the fool,
    And a' the day to sit in dool,
        And naebody to see me.

IV.

    Ye sall get gowns and ribbons...

Robert Burns

Hey For A Lass Wi' A Tocher.

Tune - "Balinamona Ora."



I.

    Awa wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms,
    The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms:
    O, gie me the lass that has acres o' charms,
    O, gie me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms.
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher;
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
            The nice yellow guineas for me.

II.

    Your beauty's a flower, in the morning that blows,
    And withers the faster, the faster it grows;
    But the rapturous charm o' the bonnie green knowes,
    Ilk spring they're new deckit wi' bonnie white yowes.

III.

    And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest,
    The brightest o' beauty may cl...

Robert Burns

My Collier Laddie.

Tune - "The Collier Laddie."


I.

    Where live ye, my bonnie lass?
        An' tell me what they ca' ye;
    My name, she says, is Mistress Jean,
        And I follow the Collier Laddie.
    My name she says, is Mistress Jean,
        And I follow the Collier Laddie.

II.

    See you not yon hills and dales,
        The sun shines on sae brawlie!
    They a' are mine, and they shall be thine,
        Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie.
    They a' are mine, and they shall be thine,
        Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie.

III.

    Ye shall gang in gay attire,
        Weel buskit up sae gaudy;
    And ane to wait on every hand,
        Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie.
    And ane to wa...

Robert Burns

Last May A Braw Wooer.

Tune - "The Lothian Lassie."


I.

    Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
        And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
    I said there was naething I hated like men,
        The deuce gae wi'm, to believe, believe me,
        The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me!

II.

    He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een,
        And vow'd for my love, he was dying;
    I said he might die when he liked for Jean,
        The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying,
        The Lord forgie me for lying!

III.

    A weel-stocked mailen - himsel' for the laird -
        And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:
    I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,
        But thought I may hae waur offers, waur offers,<...

Robert Burns