There Was A Lass.

Tune - "Duncan Davison."


I.

    There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,
        And she held o'er the moors to spin;
    There was a lad that follow'd her,
        They ca'd him Duncan Davison.
    The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh,
        Her favour Duncan could na win;
    For wi' the roke she wad him knock.
        And ay she shook the temper-pin.

II.

    As o'er the moor they lightly foor,
        A burn was clear, a glen was green,
    Upon the banks they eas'd-their shanks,
        And ay she set the wheel between:
    But Duncan swore a haly aith,
        That Meg should be a bride the morn,
    Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith,
        And flang them a' out o'er the burn.

III.

    We'll big a house, a wee, wee house,
        And we will live like king and queen,
    Sae blythe and merry we will be
        When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
    A man may drink and no be drunk;
        A man may fight and no be slain;
    A man may kiss a bonnie lass,
        And ay be welcome 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

Sonnet, On The Death Of Robert Riddel, Esq. Of Glenriddel, April, 1794.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To A Mountain Daisy, On Turning One Down With The Plough In April, 1786.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Thickest Night, O'Erhang My Dwelling.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To A Haggis

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.

Duncan Gray.

I.

    Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    On blythe yule night when we were fou,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
    Maggie coost her head fu' high,
    Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
    Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

II.

    Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
    Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
    Grat his een baith bleer't and blin',
    Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn;
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

III.

    Time and chance are but a tide,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't;
    Slighted love is sair to bide,
        Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
...

Robert Burns

Last May A Braw Wooer.

Tune - "The Lothian Lassie."


I.

    Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
        And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
    I said there was naething I hated like men,
        The deuce gae wi'm, to believe, believe me,
        The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me!

II.

    He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een,
        And vow'd for my love, he was dying;
    I said he might die when he liked for Jean,
        The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying,
        The Lord forgie me for lying!

III.

    A weel-stocked mailen - himsel' for the laird -
        And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:
    I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,
        But thought I may hae waur offers, waur offers,<...

Robert Burns

Country Lassie.

Tune - "The Country Lass."


I.

    In simmer, when the hay was mawn,
        And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
    While claver blooms white o'er the lea,
        And roses blaw in ilka bield;
    Blithe Bessie in the milking shiel,
        Says, I'll be wed, come o't what will;
    Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild
        O' guid advisement comes nae ill.

II.

    It's ye hae wooers mony ane,
        And, lassie, ye're but young ye ken;
    Then wait a wee, and cannie wale,
        A routhie butt, a routhie ben:
    There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
        Fu' is his burn, fu' is his byre;
    Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
        It's plenty beets the luver's fire.

III.

    For Johnie ...

Robert Burns

Meg O' The Mill.

Air - "Hey! bonnie lass, will you lie in a barrack?"



I.

    O ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten?
    An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten?
    She has gotten a coof wi' a claute o' siller,
    And broken the heart o' the barley Miller.

II.

    The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy;
    A heart like a lord and a hue like a lady:
    The Laird was a widdiefu', bleerit knurl;
    She's left the guid-fellow and ta'en the churl.

III.

    The Miller he hecht her a heart leal and loving;
    The Laird did address her wi' matter mair moving,
    A fine pacing horse wi' a clear chained bridle,
    A whip by her side and a bonnie side-saddle.

IV.

    O wae on the siller, it is sae...

Robert Burns

There Was A Bonnie Lass.

I.

        There was a bonnie lass,
        And a bonnie, bonnie lass,
    And she lo'ed her bonnie laddie dear;
        Till war's loud alarms
        Tore her laddie frae her arms,
    Wi' mony a sigh and tear.

II.

        Over sea, over shore,
        Where the cannons loudly roar,
    He still was a stranger to fear;
        And nocht could him quell,
        Or his bosom assail,
    But the bonnie lass he lo'ed sae dear.

Robert Burns

Weary Fa' You, Duncan Gray.

Tune - "Duncan Gray."


I.

    Weary fa' you, Duncan Gray,
        Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
    Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray,
        Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
    When a' the lave gae to their play,
    Then I maun sit the lee lang day,
    And jog the cradle wi' my tae,
        And a' for the girdin o't!

II.

    Bonnie was the Lammas moon,
        Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
    Glowrin' a' the hills aboon,
        Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
    The girdin brak, the beast cam down,
    I tint my curch, and baith my shoon;
    Ah! Duncan, ye're an unco loon,
        Wae on the bad girdin o't!

III.

    But, Duncan, gin ye'll keep your aith,
        Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
    I'se bless you wi' ...

Robert Burns