Musing On The Roaring Ocean.

Tune - "Druimion dubh."


I.

    Musing on the roaring ocean,
        Which divides my love and me;
    Wearying heaven in warm devotion,
        For his weal where'er he be.

II.

    Hope and fear's alternate billow
        Yielding late to nature's law,
    Whisp'ring spirits round my pillow
        Talk of him that's far awa.

III.

    Ye whom sorrow never wounded,
        Ye who never shed a tear,
    Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,
        Gaudy day to you is dear.

IV.

    Gentle night, do thou befriend me;
        Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
    Spirits kind, again attend me,
        Talk of him that's far awa!

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

To Captain Riddel, Of Glenriddel. Extempore Lines On Returning A Newspaper.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Let Not Woman E'er Complain.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Jessy Lewars.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

As I Was A-Wand'Ring.

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.

The Gloomy Night.

Tune - "Roslin Castle."


I.

    The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
    Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
    Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
    I see it driving o'er the plain;
    The hunter now has left the moor,
    The scatter'd coveys meet secure;
    While here I wander, prest with care,
    Along the lonely banks of Ayr.

II.

    The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn,
    By early Winter's ravage torn;
    Across her placid, azure sky,
    She sees the scowling tempest fly:
    Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,
    I think upon the stormy wave,
    Where many a danger I must dare,
    Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.

III.

    'Tis not the surging billow's roar,
    'Tis n...

Robert Burns

On The Seas And Far Away.

Tune - "O'er the hills," &c.


I.

    How can my poor heart be glad,
    When absent from my sailor lad?
    How can I the thought forego,
    He's on the seas to meet the foe?
    Let me wander, let me rove,
    Still my heart is with my love:
    Nightly dreams, and thoughts by day,
    Are with him that's far away.
            On the seas and far away,
            On stormy seas and far away;
            Nightly dreams, and thoughts by day,
            Are ay with him that's far away.

II.

    When in summer's noon I faint,
    As weary flocks around me pant,
    Haply in this scorching sun
    My sailor's thund'ring at his gun:
    Bullets, spare my only joy!
    Bullets, spare my darling boy!
...

Robert Burns

Behold The Hour.

Tune - "Oran-gaoil."



I.

    Behold the hour, the boat arrive;
        Thou goest, thou darling of my heart!
    Sever'd from thee can I survive?
        But fate has will'd, and we must part.
    I'll often greet this surging swell,
        Yon distant isle will often hail:
    "E'en here I took the last farewell;
        There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail."

II.

    Along the solitary shore
        While flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
    Across the rolling, dashing roar,
        I'll westward turn my wistful eye:
    Happy, thou Indian grove, I'll say,
        Where now my Nancy's path may be!
    While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray,
        O tell me, does she muse on me?

Robert Burns

Raving Winds Around Her Blowing.

Tune - "Macgregor of Rura's Lament."


I.

    Raving winds around her blowing,
    Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
    By a river hoarsely roaring,
    Isabella stray'd deploring,
    "Farewell hours that late did measure
    Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
    Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
    Cheerless night that knows no morrow!

II.

    "O'er the past too fondly wandering,
    On the hopeless future pondering;
    Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
    Fell despair my fancy seizes.
    Life, thou soul of every blessing,
    Load to misery most distressing,
    Gladly how would I resign thee,
    And to dark oblivion join thee!"

Robert Burns

The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water To The Noble Duke Of Athole.

I.

    My Lord, I know your noble ear
        Woe ne'er assails in vain;
    Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear
        Your humble slave complain,
    How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams
        In flaming summer-pride,
    Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams,
        And drink my crystal tide.

II.

    The lightly-jumpin' glowrin' trouts,
        That thro' my waters play,
    If, in their random, wanton spouts,
        They near the margin stray;
    If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
        I'm scorching up so shallow,
    They're left the whitening stanes amang,
        In gasping death to wallow.

III.

    Last day I grat wi' spite and teen,
        As Poet Burns came by,
    That to a bard I shou...

Robert Burns

By Allan Stream.

I.

    By Allan stream I chanced to rove
        While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;
    The winds were whispering through the grove,
        The yellow corn was waving ready;
    I listened to a lover's sang,
        And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony:
    And aye the wild wood echoes rang
        O dearly do I lo'e thee, Annie!

II.

    O happy be the woodbine bower,
        Nae nightly bogle make it eerie;
    Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,
        The place and time I met my dearie!
    Her head upon my throbbing breast,
        She, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever?"
    While mony a kiss the seal imprest,
        The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever.

III.

    The haunt o' Spring's the primrose brae,

Robert Burns