Impromptu, To Miss Ainslie.

    Fair maid, you need not take the hint,
        Nor idle texts pursue:-
    'Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
        Not angels such as you!

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

On The Same. (On A Henpecked Country Squire.)

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

My Heart Was Ance.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To Dr. Maxwell, On Jessie Staig's Recovery.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Inventory; - In Answer To A Mandate By The Surveyor Of The Taxes.

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.

Impromptu.

    You're welcome, Willie Stewart,
    You're welcome, Willie Stewart;
    There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
    That's half sae welcome's thou art.

    Come bumpers high, express your joy,
        The bowl we maun renew it;
    The tappit-hen, gae bring her ben,
        To welcome Willie Stewart.

    My foes be strang, and friends be slack,
        Ilk action may he rue it,
    May woman on him turn her back,
        That wrongs thee, Willie Stewart.

Robert Burns

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

Epistle To Major Logan.

    Hail, thairm-inspirin', rattlin' Willie!
    Though fortune's road be rough an' hilly
    To every fiddling, rhyming billie,
        We never heed,
    But tak' it like the unback'd filly,
        Proud o' her speed.

    When idly goavan whyles we saunter
    Yirr, fancy barks, awa' we canter
    Uphill, down brae, till some mishanter,
        Some black bog-hole,
    Arrests us, then the scathe an' banter
        We're forced to thole.

    Hale be your heart! Hale be your fiddle!
    Lang may your elbuck jink and diddle,
    To cheer you through the weary widdle
        O' this wild warl',
    Until you on a crummock driddle
        A gray-hair'd carl.

    Come wealth, come poortith, late or soon,
    Heaven send your hear...

Robert Burns

Address, Spoken By Miss Fontenelle On Her Benefit Night.

    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 my bill, said I, if nothing better;
    So sought a Poet, roosted near the skies,
    Told him I came to feast my curious eyes;
    Said nothing like his works was ever printed;
    And last, my Prologue-business slyly hinted!
    "Ma'am, let me tell you," quoth my man of rhymes,
    "I know your bent, these are no laughing times:
    Can you, but, Miss, I own I have my fears,
    Dissolve in pause, and sentimental tears;
    With laden sighs, and solemn-rounded sentence,
    Rouse from his sluggish slumbers, fell Repentance;
    Paint Vengeance as he takes his horrid stand,
    Waving on high the des...

Robert Burns

To Dr. Blacklock, In Answer To A Letter.

Ellisland, 21st Oct. 1789.

    Wow, but your letter made me vauntie!
    And are ye hale, and weel, and cantie?
    I kenn'd it still your wee bit jauntie
        Wad bring ye to:
    Lord send you ay as weel's I want ye,
        And then ye'll do.

    The ill-thief blaw the heron south!
    And never drink be near his drouth!
    He tauld mysel' by word o' mouth,
        He'd tak my letter:
    I lippen'd to the chief in trouth,
        And bade nae better.

    But aiblins honest Master Heron,
    Had at the time some dainty fair one,
    To ware his theologic care on,
        And holy study;
    And tir'd o' sauls to waste his lear on
        E'en tried the body.

    But what dy'e think, my trusty fier,
    ...

Robert Burns

A Piece Of Advice.

        So you're going to give up flirtation, my dear,
            And lead a life sober and quiet?
        There, there, I don't doubt the intention's sincere.
            But wait till occasion shall try it.
                    Is Ramsay engaged?
                    Now, don't look enraged!
            You like him, I know don't deny it!

        What! Give up flirtation? Change dimples for frowns
            Why, Nell, what's the use? You're so pretty,
        That your beauty all sense of your wickedness drowns
            When, some time, in country or city,
                    Your fate comes at last.
                    We'll forgive all the past,
            And think of you only with pity.

        Indeed! so "you feel for the woes of my sex!"
 ...

George Augustus Baker, Jr.