Delia. - An Ode.

    Fair the face of orient day,
    Fair the tints of op'ning rose,
    But fairer still my Delia dawns,
    More lovely far her beauty blows.

    Sweet the lark's wild-warbled lay,
    Sweet the tinkling rill to hear;
    But, Delia, more delightful still
    Steal thine accents on mine ear.

    The flow'r-enamoured busy bee
    The rosy banquet loves to sip;
    Sweet the streamlet's limpid lapse
    To the sun-brown'd Arab's lip;

    But, Delia, on thy balmy lips
    Let me, no vagrant insect, rove!
    O, let me steal one liquid kiss!
    For, oh! my soul is parch'd with love.

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

O Lay Thy Loof In Mine, Lass.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

She's Fair And Fause.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On The Author's Father.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

A Mother's Lament For The Death Of Her Son.

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.

Fair Eliza.

A Gaelic Air.



I.

    Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
        Ae kind blink before we part,
    Rue on thy despairing lover!
        Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?
    Turn again, thou fair Eliza;
        If to love thy heart denies,
    For pity hide the cruel sentence
        Under friendship's kind disguise!

II.

    Thee, dear maid, hae I offended?
        The offence is loving thee:
    Canst thou wreck his peace for ever,
        Wha for time wad gladly die?
    While the life beats in my bosom,
        Thou shalt mix in ilka throe;
    Turn again, thou lovely maiden.
        Ae sweet smile on me bestow.

III.

    Not the bee upon the blossom,
        In the pride o' sunny no...

Robert Burns

The Lover's Morning Salute To His Mistress.

Tune - "Deil tak the Wars."


I.

    Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature?
            Rosy Morn now lifts his eye,
    Numbering ilka bud which nature
            Waters wi' the tears o' joy:
            Now through the leafy woods,
            And by the reeking floods,
    Wild nature's tenants freely, gladly stray;
            The lintwhite in his bower
            Chants o'er the breathing flower;
            The lav'rock to the sky
            Ascends wi' sangs o' joy,
    While the sun and thou arise to bless the day.

II.

    Phoebus gilding the brow o' morning,
            Banishes ilk darksome shade,
    Nature gladdening and adorning;
            Such to me my lovely maid.
            When ...

Robert Burns

Peggy.

I.

Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns
    Bring autumn's pleasant weather;
The moor-cock springs, on whirring wings,
    Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
    Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night
    To muse upon my charmer.

II.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells;
    The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
    The soaring hern the fountains;
Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves
    The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush,
    The spreading thorn the linnet.

III.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,
    The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine;
 ...

Robert Burns

Chloris.

Air - "My lodging is on the cold ground."


I.

    My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
        The primrose banks how fair:
    The balmy gales awake the flowers,
        And wave thy flaxen hair.

II.

    The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
        And o'er the cottage sings;
    For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
        To shepherds as to kings

III.

    Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
        In lordly lighted ha':
    The shepherd stops his simple reed,
        Blythe, in the birken shaw.

IV.

    The princely revel may survey
        Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
    But are their hearts as light as ours,
        Beneath the milk-white thorn?

V.

    ...

Robert Burns

Blooming Nelly.

Tune - "*On a bank of flowers.*"

I.

    On a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
        For summer lightly drest,
    The youthful blooming Nelly lay,
        With love and sleep opprest;
    When Willie wand'ring thro' the wood,
        Who for her favour oft had sued,
    He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
        And trembled where he stood.

II.

    Her closed eyes like weapons sheath'd,
        Were seal'd in soft repose;
    Her lips still as she fragrant breath'd,
        It richer dy'd the rose.
    The springing lilies sweetly prest,
        Wild. wanton, kiss'd her rival breast;
    He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
        His bosom ill at rest.

III.

    Her robes light waving in the breeze
        Her tender limbs embrace;
    Her lovely form, her native ease,
        All harmony and grace:
    Tumultuou...

Robert Burns

Lovely Davies.

Tune - "Miss Muir."


I.

    O how shall I, unskilfu', try
        The poet's occupation,
    The tunefu' powers, in happy hours,
        That whispers inspiration?
    Even they maun dare an effort mair,
        Than aught they ever gave us,
    Or they rehearse, in equal verse,
        The charms o' lovely Davies.
    Each eye it cheers, when she appears,
        Like Phoebus in the morning.
    When past the shower, and ev'ry flower
        The garden is adorning.
    As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
        When winter-bound the wave is;
    Sae droops our heart when we maun part
        Frae charming lovely Davies.

II.

    Her smile's a gift, frae 'boon the lift,
        That maks us mair tha...

Robert Burns