The Braes O' Ballochmyle.

Tune - "The Braes o' Ballochmyle."


I.

    The Catrine woods were yellow seen,
        The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea,
    Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green,
        But nature sicken'd on the e'e.
    Thro' faded groves Maria sang,
        Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while,
    And ay the wild-wood echoes rang,
        Fareweel the Braes o' Ballochmyle!

II.

    Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
        Again ye'll nourish fresh and fair;
    Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers,
        Again ye'll charm the vocal air.
    But here, alas! for me nae mair
        Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile;
    Fareweel the bonnie banks of Ayr,
        Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle!

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

Tam, The Chapman.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On John Bushby.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Written In Friars-Carse Hermitage, On The Banks Of Nith. June. 1788. (First Copy.)

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Toast.

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 Lass Of Ballochmyle.

Tune - "Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."


I.

    'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,
        On every blade the pearls hang,
    The zephyr wanton'd round the bean,
        And bore its fragrant sweets alang:
    In ev'ry glen the mavis sang,
        All nature listening seem'd the while,
    Except where greenwood echoes rang
        Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle!

II.

    With careless step I onward stray'd,
        My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy,
    When musing in a lonely glade,
        A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy;
    Her look was like the morning's eye,
        Her air like nature's vernal smile,
    Perfection whisper'd passing by,
        Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!

III.

Robert Burns

The Banks Of Doon. (First Version.)

I.

    Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
        How can ye bloom sae fair;
    How can ye chant, ye little birds,
        And I sae fu' o' care!

II.

    Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
        That sings upon the bough;
    Thou minds me o' the happy days
        When my fause love was true.

III.

    Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
        That sings beside thy mate;
    For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
        And wist na o' my fate.

IV.

    Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
        To see the woodbine twine,
    And ilka bird sang o' its love;
        And sae did I o' mine.

V.

    Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
        Frae aff its thorny tree:
    An...

Robert Burns

Hey For A Lass Wi' A Tocher.

Tune - "Balinamona Ora."



I.

    Awa wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms,
    The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms:
    O, gie me the lass that has acres o' charms,
    O, gie me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms.
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher;
        Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
            The nice yellow guineas for me.

II.

    Your beauty's a flower, in the morning that blows,
    And withers the faster, the faster it grows;
    But the rapturous charm o' the bonnie green knowes,
    Ilk spring they're new deckit wi' bonnie white yowes.

III.

    And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest,
    The brightest o' beauty may cl...

Robert Burns

The Banks O' Doon. (Second Version.)

Tune - "Caledonian Hunt's Delight."


I.

    Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
        How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
    How can ye chant, ye little birds,
        And I sae weary, fu' o' care!
    Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
        That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
    Thou minds me o' departed joys,
        Departed, never to return!

II.

    Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
        To see the rose and woodbine twine;
    And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
        And fondly sae did I o' mine.
    Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
        Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
    And my fause luver stole my rose,
        But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

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

Hee Balou.

Tune - "The Highland Balou."



I.

    Hee balou! my sweet wee Donald,
    Picture o' the great Clanronald;
    Brawlie kens our wanton chief
    Wha got my young Highland thief.

II.

    Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie,
    An' thou live, thou'll steal a naigie:
    Travel the country thro' and thro',
    And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

III.

    Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the border,
    Weel, my babie, may thou furder:
    Herry the louns o' the laigh countree,
    Syne to the Highlands hame to me.

Robert Burns