My Hoggie.

Tune - "What will I do gin my Hoggie die?"


    What will I do gin my Hoggie die?
        My joy, my pride, my Hoggie!
    My only beast, I had nae mae,
        And vow but I was vogie!
    The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld,
        Me and my faithfu' doggie;
    We heard nought but the roaring linn,
        Amang the braes sae scroggie;
    But the houlet cry'd frae the castle wa',
        The blitter frae the boggie,
    The tod reply'd upon the hill,
        I trembled for my Hoggie.
    When day did daw, and cocks did craw,
        The morning it was foggie;
    An' unco tyke lap o'er the dyke,
        And maist has kill'd my Hoggie.

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

Lines Written On A Window.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Flow Gently, Sweet Afton.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To A Haggis

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On A Noted Coxcomb.

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 Rantin' Dog, The Daddie O'T.

I.

O wha my babie-clouts will buy?
O wha will tent me when I cry?
Wha will kiss me where I lie?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

II.

O wha will own he did the fau't?
O wha will buy the groanin' maut?
O wha will tell me how to ca't?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

III.

When I mount the creepie chair,
Wha will sit beside me there?
Gie me Rob, I'll seek nae mair,
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

IV.

Wha will crack to me my lane?
Wha will make me fidgin' fain?
Wha will kiss me o'er again?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

Robert Burns

James Hogg.

        The wondrous shepherd James Hogg
        Was happy with his good sheep dog,
        Meditating o'er his sweet lays
        While his fleecy flocks did graze.

        His education it came late
        After he reached to man's estate,
        While his flocks were busy feeding
        His favourite authors he was reading.

        Wondrous tales he did rehearse
        Of witches both in prose and verse,
        And he in fairy tales did glory
        Traditions of each shepherd's story.

        The shepherd he sang late and early
        Of the deeds of bold Prince Charley,
        And how the charming bonnie Flora
        Soothed the Prince when in his sorrow.

        Few songs possess so much vigor
        As his gatherin...

James McIntyre

Lassie Wi' The Lint-White Locks.

Tune - "Rothemurche's Rant."


I.

        Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
            Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
        Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks?
            Wilt thou be my dearie, O?
    Now nature cleeds the flowery lea,
    And a' is young and sweet like thee;
    O wilt thou share its joy wi' me,
        And say thoul't be my dearie, O?

II.

    And when the welcome simmer shower
    Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
    We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
        At sultry noon, my dearie, O.

III.

    When Cynthia lights wi' silver ray,
    The weary shearer's hameward way;
    Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
        And talk o' love my dearie, O.

IV.

Robert Burns

The Bairns Gat Out.

Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddie."


I.

    The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout,
        The deuks dang o'er my daddie, O!
    The fien'-ma-care, quo' the feirrie auld wife,
        He was but a paidlin body, O!
    He paidles out, an' he paidles in,
        An' he paidles late an' early, O!
    This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
        An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O!

II.

    O, hand your tongue, my feirrie auld wife,
        O, haud your tongue, now Nansie, O!
    I've seen the day, and sae hae ye,
        Ye wadna been sae donsie, O!
    I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose,
        And cuddled me late and early, O!
    But downa do's come o'er me now,
        And, oh! I feel it sairly, O...

Robert Burns

Ca' The Yowes.

I.

    Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
    Ca' them whare the heather growes,
    Ca' them whare the burnie rowes -
        My bonnie dearie!
    Hark the mavis' evening sang
    Sounding Cluden's woods amang!
    Then a faulding let us gang,
        My bonnie dearie.

II.

    We'll gae down by Cluden side,
    Thro' the hazels spreading wide,
    O'er the waves that sweetly glide
        To the moon sae clearly.

III.

    Yonder Cluden's silent towers,
    Where at moonshine midnight hours,
    O'er the dewy bending flowers,
        Fairies dance so cheery.

IV.

    Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
    Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear,
    Nocht of ill may come thee near,
        My bo...

Robert Burns

To A Haggis

    Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
    Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
    Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
        Painch, tripe, or thairm:
    Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
        As lang's my arm.

    The groaning trencher there ye fill,
    Your hurdies like a distant hill,
    Your pin wad help to mend a mill
        In time o' need,
    While thro' your pores the dews distil
        Like amber bead.

    His knife see rustic-labour dight,
    An' cut you up wi' ready slight,
    Trenching your gushing entrails bright
        Like onie ditch;
    And then, O what a glorious sight,
        Warm-reekin, rich!

    Then horn for horn they stretch an' strive,
    Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
    'Till a' ...

Robert Burns