Phillis The Fair.

Tune - "Robin Adair."



I.

    While larks with little wing
        Fann'd the pure air,
    Tasting the breathing spring,
        Forth I did fare:
    Gay the sun's golden eye
    Peep'd o'er the mountains high;
    Such thy morn! did I cry,
        Phillis the fair.

II.

    In each bird's careless song,
        Glad I did share;
    While yon wild flowers among,
        Chance led me there:
    Sweet to the opening day,
    Rosebuds bent the dewy spray;
    Such thy bloom! did I say,
        Phillis the fair.

III.

    Down in a shady walk
        Doves cooing were,
    I mark'd the cruel hawk,
        Caught in a snare:
    So kind may fortune be,
    Such make his destiny!
    He who would injure thee,
        Phillis the fair.

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

Braving Angry Winter's Storms.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

How Cruel Are The Parents.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Willie Wastle.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

A Grace.

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.

Adown Winding Nith.

I.

    Adown winding Nith I did wander,
        To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
    Adown winding Nith I did wander,
        Of Phillis to muse and to sing.
    Awa wi' your belles and your beauties,
        They never wi' her can compare:
    Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
        Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.

II.

    The daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
        So artless, so simple, so wild;
    Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis,
        For she is simplicity's child.

III.

    The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
        Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
    How fair and how pure is the lily,
        But fairer and purer her breast.

IV.

    Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,...

Robert Burns

Fair Jeany.

Tune - "Saw ye my father?"



I.

    Where are the joys I have met in the morning,
        That danc'd to the lark's early song?
    Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring,
        At evening the wild woods among?

II.

    No more a-winding the course of yon river,
        And marking sweet flow'rets so fair:
    No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure,
        But sorrow and sad sighing care.

III.

    Is it that summer's forsaken our valleys,
        And grim, surly winter is near?
    No, no, the bees' humming round the gay roses,
        Proclaim it the pride of the year.

IV.

    Fain would I hide, what I fear to discover,
        Yet long, long too well have I known,

Robert Burns

O Philly, Happy Be That Day.

Tune - "The Sow's Tail."


He.

    O Philly, happy be that day,
    When roving through the gather'd hay,
    My youthfu' heart was stown away,
        And by thy charms, my Philly.

She.

    O Willy, ay I bless the grove
    Where first I own'd my maiden love,
    Whilst thou didst pledge the powers above,
        To be my ain dear Willy.

He.

    As songsters of the early year
    Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
    So ilka day to me mair dear
        And charming is my Philly.

She.

    As on the brier the budding rose
    Still richer breathes and fairer blows,
    So in my tender bosom grows
        The love I bear my Willy.

He.

    The milder sun and bluer ...

Robert Burns

Blooming Nelly.

Tune - "*On a bank of flowers.*"

I.

    On a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
        For summer lightly drest,
    The youthful blooming Nelly lay,
        With love and sleep opprest;
    When Willie wand'ring thro' the wood,
        Who for her favour oft had sued,
    He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
        And trembled where he stood.

II.

    Her closed eyes like weapons sheath'd,
        Were seal'd in soft repose;
    Her lips still as she fragrant breath'd,
        It richer dy'd the rose.
    The springing lilies sweetly prest,
        Wild. wanton, kiss'd her rival breast;
    He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
        His bosom ill at rest.

III.

    Her robes light waving in the breeze
        Her tender limbs embrace;
    Her lovely form, her native ease,
        All harmony and grace:
    Tumultuou...

Robert Burns

Blithe Was She.

Tune - "Andro and his cutty gun."


Chorus.

    Blithe, blithe and merry was she,
        Blithe was she but and ben:
    Blithe by the banks of Ern,
        And blithe in Glenturit glen.

I.

    By Auchtertyre grows the aik,
        On Yarrow banks the birken shaw;
    But Phemie was a bonnier lass
        Than braes of Yarrow ever saw.

II.

    Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
        Her smile was like a simmer morn;
    She tripped by the banks of Ern,
        As light's a bird upon a thorn.

III.

    Her bonnie face it was as meek
        As any lamb upon a lea;
    The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
        As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.

IV.

    The ...

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