My Harry Was A Gallant Gay.

Tune - "Highland's Lament."


I.

    My Harry was a gallant gay,
        Fu' stately strode he on the plain:
    But now he's banish'd far away,
        I'll never see him back again,
                O for him back again!
                    O for him back again!
                I wad gie a' Knockhaspie's land
                    For Highland Harry back again.

II.

    When a' the lave gae to their bed,
        I wander dowie up the glen;
    I set me down and greet my fill,
        And ay I wish him back again.

III.

    O were some villains hangit high.
        And ilka body had their ain!
    Then I might see the joyfu' sight,
        My Highland Harry back again.
                O for him back again!
                    O for him back again!
                I wad gie a' Knockhaspie's land
                    For Highland Harry back again.

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

Ode Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald, Of Auchencruive.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To John Kennedy.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Death And Dr. Hornbook. - A True Story.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Lying At A Reverend Friend's House On Night, The Author Left The Following Verses In The Room Where He Slept.

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 Highland Lassie.

Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddy!"


I.

    Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
    Shall ever be my muse's care:
    Their titles a' are empty show;
    Gie me my Highland lassie, O.
            Within the glen sae bushy, O,
            Aboon the plains sae rushy, O,
            I set me down wi' right good-will,
            To sing my Highland lassie, O.

II.

    Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
    Yon palace and yon gardens fine,
    The world then the love should know
    I bear my Highland lassie, O.

III.

    But fickle fortune frowns on me,
    And I maun cross the raging sea;
    But while my crimson currents flow,
    I'll love my Highland lassie, O.

IV.

    A...

Robert Burns

The Highland Laddie.

Tune - "If thou'lt play me fair play."



I.

    The bonniest lad that e'er I saw,
        Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
    Wore a plaid, and was fu' braw,
        Bonnie Highland laddie.
    On his head a bonnet blue,
        Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie;
    His royal heart was firm and true,
        Bonnie Highland laddie.

II.

    Trumpets sound, and cannons roar,
        Bonnie lassie; Lowland lassie;
    And a' the hills wi' echoes roar,
        Bonnie Lowland lassie.
    Glory, honour, now invite,
        Bonnie lassie, Lowland lassie,
    For freedom and my king to fight,
        Bonnie Lowland lassie.

III.

    The sun a backward course shall take,
        Bonnie laddie, H...

Robert Burns

The Highland Widow's Lament.

I.

    Oh! I am come to the low countrie,
        Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
    Without a penny in my purse,
        To buy a meal to me.

II.

    It was na sae in the Highland hills,
        Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
    Nae woman in the country wide
        Sae happy was as me.

III.

    For then I had a score o' kye,
        Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
    Feeding on yon hills so high,
        And giving milk to me.

IV.

    And there I had three score o' yowes,
        Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
    Skipping on yon bonnie knowes,
        And casting woo' to me.

V.

    I was the happiest of a' the clan,
        Sair, sair, may I repine;
    For Donald was the brawest lad,
  ...

Robert Burns

The Tither Moon.

To a Highland Air.


I.

                The tither morn,
                When I forlorn,
    Aneath an oak sat moaning,
                I did na trow
                I'd see my Jo,
    Beside me, gain the gloaming.
                But he sae trig,
                Lap o'er the rig.
    And dawtingly did cheer me,
                When I, what reck,
                Did least expec',
    To see my lad so near me.

II.

                His bonnet he,
                A thought ajee,
    Cock'd sprush when first he clasp'd me;
                And I, I wat,
                Wi' fainness grat,
    While in his grips be press'd me.
                Deil tak' the war!
                I late and air
    Hae...

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

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