Eppie Adair.

Tune - "My Eppie."


I.

    An' O! my Eppie,
    My jewel, my Eppie!
    Wha wadna be happy
        Wi' Eppie Adair?
    By love, and by beauty,
    By law, and by duty,
    I swear to be true to
        My Eppie Adair!

II.

    An' O! my Eppie,
    My jewel, my Eppie!
    Wha wadna be happy
        Wi' Eppie Adair?
    A' pleasure exile me,
    Dishonour defile me,
    If e'er I beguile thee,
        My Eppie Adair!

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

Of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On Wat.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To A Haggis

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Lassie Wi' The Lint-White Locks.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Pidgin

Suggested Poems

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

O Saw Ye My Dearie.

Tune - "Eppie Macnab."


I.

    O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
    O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
    She's down in the yard, she's kissin' the laird,
    She winna come hame to her ain Jock Rab.
    O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
    O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
    Whate'er thou hast done, be it late, be it soon,
    Thou's welcome again to thy ain Jock Rab.

II.

    What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
    What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
    She lets thee to wit, that she has thee forgot,
    And for ever disowns thee, her ain Jock Rab.
    O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
    O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
    As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,

Robert Burns

This Is No My Ain Lassie.

Tune - "This is no my ain house."



I.

            O this is no my ain lassie,
                Fair tho' the lassie be;
            O weel ken I my ain lassie,
                Kind love is in her e'e.
    I see a form, I see a face,
    Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:
    It wants, to me, the witching grace,
        The kind love that's in her e'e.

II.

    She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,
    And lang has had my heart in thrall;
    And ay it charms my very saul,
        The kind love that's in her e'e.

III.

    A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
    To steal a blink, by a' unseen;
    But gleg as light are lovers' een,
        When kind love is in the e'e.

IV.

...

Robert Burns

O Poortith Cauld.

Tune - "I had a horse."



I.

    O poortith cauld, and restless love,
        Ye wreck my peace between ye;
    Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
            An' twere na' for my Jeanie.
                O why should fate sic pleasure have,
                    Life's dearest bands untwining?
                Or why sae sweet a flower as love
                    Depend on fortune's shining?

II.

    This warld's wealth when I think on,
        It's pride, and a' the lave o't
    Fie, fie on silly coward man,
        That he should be the slave o't!

III.

    Her een sae bonnie blue betray
        How she repays my passion;
    But prudence is her o'erword ay,
        She talks of rank and fashion.

Robert Burns

My Heart Was Ance.

Tune - "To the weavers gin ye go."


I.

    My heart was ance as blythe and free
        As simmer days were lang,
    But a bonnie, westlin weaver lad
        Has gart me change my sang.
            To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,
                To the weavers gin ye go;
            I rede you right gang ne'er at night,
                To the weavers gin ye go.

II.

    My mither sent me to the town,
        To warp a plaiden wab;
    But the weary, weary warpin o't
        Has gart me sigh and sab.

III.

    A bonnie westlin weaver lad,
        Sat working at his loom;
    He took my heart as wi' a net,
        In every knot and thrum.

IV.

    I sat beside my warpin-whee...

Robert Burns

As I Was A-Wand'Ring.

Tune - "Rinn Meudial mo Mhealladh."


I.

    As I was a-wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',
        The pipers and youngsters were making their game;
    Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,
        Which bled a' the wound o' my dolour again.
    Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him;
        I may be distress'd, but I winna complain;
    I flatter my fancy I may get anither,
        My heart it shall never be broken for ane.

II.

    I could na get sleeping till dawin for greetin',
        The tears trickled down like the hail and the rain:
    Had I na got greetin', my heart wad a broken,
        For, oh! luve forsaken's a tormenting pain.

III.

    Although he has left me for greed o' the sille...

Robert Burns

The Lovely Lass Of Inverness.

Tune - "Lass of Inverness."


I.

    The lovely lass o' Inverness,
        Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
    For e'en and morn, she cries, alas!
        And ay the saut tear blin's her e'e:
    Drumossie moor, Drumossie day
        A waefu' day it was to me!
    For there I lost my father dear,
        My father dear, and brethren three.

II.

    Their winding sheet the bluidy clay,
        Their graves are growing green to see:
    And by them lies the dearest lad
        That ever blest a woman's e'e!
    Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
        A bluidy man I trow thou be;
    For mony a heart thou host made sair,
        That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.

Robert Burns