On Chloris Being Ill.

Tune - "Ay wakin', O."



I.

    Long, long the night,
        Heavy comes the morrow,
    While my soul's delight
        Is on her bed of sorrow.

    Can I cease to care?
        Can I cease to languish?
    While my darling fair
        Is on the couch of anguish?

II.

    Every hope is fled,
        Every fear is terror;
    Slumber even I dread,
        Every dream is horror.

III.

    Hear me, Pow'rs divine!
        Oh, in pity hear me!
    Take aught else of mine,
        But my Chloris spare me!
            Long, long the night,
                Heavy comes the morrow,
            While my soul's delight
                Is on her bed of sorrow.

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

The Chevalier's Lament.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Joyful Widower.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On A Country Laird.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Book-Worms.

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.

Chloris.

Tune - "Caledonian Hunt's Delight."


I.

    Why, why tell thy lover,
        Bliss he never must enjoy:
    Why, why undeceive him,
        And give all his hopes the lie?

II.

    O why, while fancy raptured, slumbers,
        Chloris, Chloris all the theme,
    Why, why wouldst thou, cruel,
        Wake thy lover from his dream?

Robert Burns

Ah, Chloris, Since It May Na Be.

Tune - "Major Graham."


I.

    Ah, Chloris, since it may na be,
        That thou of love wilt hear;
    If from the lover thou maun flee,
        Yet let the friend be dear.

II.

    Altho' I love my Chloris mair
        Than ever tongue could tell;
    My passion I will ne'er declare,
        I'll say, I wish thee well.

III.

    Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
        And a' my nightly dream,
    I'll hide the struggle in my heart,
        And say it is esteem.

Robert Burns

Chloris.

Air - "My lodging is on the cold ground."


I.

    My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
        The primrose banks how fair:
    The balmy gales awake the flowers,
        And wave thy flaxen hair.

II.

    The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
        And o'er the cottage sings;
    For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
        To shepherds as to kings

III.

    Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
        In lordly lighted ha':
    The shepherd stops his simple reed,
        Blythe, in the birken shaw.

IV.

    The princely revel may survey
        Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
    But are their hearts as light as ours,
        Beneath the milk-white thorn?

V.

    ...

Robert Burns

Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Near.

Tune - "Let me in this ae night."



I.

    Forlorn, my love, no comfort near,
    Far, far from thee, I wander here;
    Far, far from thee, the fate severe
        At which I most repine, love.
            O wert thou, love, but near me;
            But near, near, near me;
            How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,
                And mingle sighs with mine, love

II.

    Around me scowls a wintry sky,
    That blasts each bud of hope and joy;
    And shelter, shade, nor home have I,
        Save in those arms of thine, love.

III.

    Cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part,
    To poison Fortune's ruthless dart,
    Let me not break thy faithful heart,
        And say that fate is mine, lov...

Robert Burns

She Says She Loves Me Best Of A'.

Tune - "Onagh's Waterfall."


I.

    Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
        Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
    Bewitchingly o'er-arching
        Twa laughin' een o' bonnie blue.
    Her smiling sae wyling,
        Wad make a wretch forget his woe;
    What pleasure, what treasure,
        Unto these rosy lips to grow:
    Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
        When first her bonnie face I saw;
    And ay my Chloris' dearest charm,
        She says she lo'es me best of a'.

II.

    Like harmony her motion;
        Her pretty ankle is a spy,
    Betraying fair proportion,
        Wad mak a saint forget the sky.
    Sae warming, sae charming,
        Her faultless form and gracefu' air;
    Ilk feature -...

Robert Burns

A Song To A Fair Young Lady, Going Out Of Town In The Spring.

        Ask not the cause, why sullen Spring
            So long delays her flowers to bear;
        Why warbling birds forget to sing,
            And winter storms invert the year:
        Chloris is gone, and fate provides
        To make it Spring, where she resides.

        Chloris is gone, the cruel fair;
            She cast not back a pitying eye;
        But left her lover in despair,
            To sigh, to languish, and to die:
        Ah, how can those fair eyes endure
        To give the wounds they will not cure?

        Great God of love, why hast thou made
            A face that can all hearts command,
        That all religions can evade,
            And change the laws of every land?
        Where thou hadst placed such power bef...

John Dryden