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,
        But thought I might hae waur offers.

IV.

    But what wad ye think? In a fortnight or less -
        The deil tak his taste to gae near her!
    He up the Gateslack to my black cousin Bess,
        Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her,
        Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her.

V.

    But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,
        I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,
    And wha but my fine fickle lover was there!
        I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
        I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.

VI.

    But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,
        Lest neebors might say I was saucy;
    My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
        And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
        And vow'd I was his dear lassie.

VII.

    I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet,
        Gin she had recovered her hearin',
    And how my auld shoon suited her shauchled feet,
        But, heavens! how he fell a swearin', a swearin',
        But, heavens! how he fell a swearin'.

VIII.

    He begged, for Gudesake, I wad be his wife,
        Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow;
    So, e'en to preserve the poor body in life,
        I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow,
        I think I maun wed him to morrow.

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

Wandering Willie. (Last Version.)

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author's Only Pet Yowe. An Unco Mournfu' Tale.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Epistle To William Creech.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Jessy.

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.

Duncan Gray.

I.

    Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    On blythe yule night when we were fou,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
    Maggie coost her head fu' high,
    Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
    Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

II.

    Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
    Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
    Grat his een baith bleer't and blin',
    Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn;
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

III.

    Time and chance are but a tide,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    Slighted love is sair to bide,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
...

Robert Burns

To Mrs. Scott, Of Wauchope.

    I mind it weel in early date,
    When I was beardless, young and blate,
        An' first could thresh the barn;
    Or hand a yokin at the pleugh;
    An' tho' forfoughten sair enough,
        Yet unco proud to learn:
    When first amang the yellow corn
        A man I reckon'd was,
    An' wi' the lave ilk merry morn
        Could rank my rig and lass,
            Still shearing, and clearing,
                The tither stooked raw,
            Wi' claivers, an' haivers,
                Wearing the day awa.

    E'en then, a wish, I mind its pow'r,
    A wish that to my latest hour
        Shall strongly heave my breast,
    That I for poor auld Scotland's sake
    Some usefu' plan or beuk could make,
        Or sing a sang at least...

Robert Burns

Had I The Wyte.

Tune - "Had I the wyte she bade me."


I.

    Had I the wyte, had I the wyte,
        Had I the wyte she bade me;
    She watch'd me by the hie-gate side.
        And up the loan she shaw'd me;
    And when I wadna venture in,
        A coward loon she ca'd me;
    Had kirk and state been in the gate,
        I lighted when she bade me.

II.

    Sae craftilie she took me ben,
        And bade me make nae clatter;
    "For our ramgunshoch glum gudeman
        Is out and owre the water:"
    Whae'er shall say I wanted grace
        When I did kiss and dawte her,
    Let him be planted in my place,
        Syne say I was the fautor.

III.

    Could I for shame, could I for shame,
        Could ...

Robert Burns

Country Lassie.

Tune - "The Country Lass."


I.

    In simmer, when the hay was mawn,
        And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
    While claver blooms white o'er the lea,
        And roses blaw in ilka bield;
    Blithe Bessie in the milking shiel,
        Says, I'll be wed, come o't what will;
    Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild
        O' guid advisement comes nae ill.

II.

    It's ye hae wooers mony ane,
        And, lassie, ye're but young ye ken;
    Then wait a wee, and cannie wale,
        A routhie butt, a routhie ben:
    There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
        Fu' is his burn, fu' is his byre;
    Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
        It's plenty beets the luver's fire.

III.

    For Johnie ...

Robert Burns

There Was A Lass.

Tune - "Duncan Davison."


I.

    There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,
        And she held o'er the moors to spin;
    There was a lad that follow'd her,
        They ca'd him Duncan Davison.
    The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh,
        Her favour Duncan could na win;
    For wi' the roke she wad him knock.
        And ay she shook the temper-pin.

II.

    As o'er the moor they lightly foor,
        A burn was clear, a glen was green,
    Upon the banks they eas'd-their shanks,
        And ay she set the wheel between:
    But Duncan swore a haly aith,
        That Meg should be a bride the morn,
    Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith,
        And flang them a' out o'er the burn.

III.

Robert Burns

Auld Rob Morris.

I.

    There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
    He's the king o' guid fellows and wale of auld men;
    He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine,
    And ae bonnie lassie, his darling and mine.

II.

    She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May;
    She's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay;
    As blythe and as artless as the lamb on the lea,
    And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e.

III.

    But oh! she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird,
    And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard;
    A wooer like me mamma hope to come speed;
    The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead.

IV.

    The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane;
    The night comes to me, but my...

Robert Burns