'Twas Na Her Bonnie Blue Een.

Tune - *Laddie, lie near me.*


I.

    'Twas na her bonnie blue een was my ruin;
    Fair tho' she be, that was ne'er my undoing:
    'Twas the dear smile when naebody did mind us,
    'Twas the bewitching, sweet stown glance o' kindness.

II.

    Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me,
    Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me!
    But tho' fell fortune should fate us to sever,
    Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever.

III.

    Mary, I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest,
    And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest!
    And thou'rt the angel that never can alter -
    Sooner the sun in his motion would falter.

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

Spoken, On Being Appointed To The Excise.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Written In A Wrapper, Enclosing A Letter To Captain Grose.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On The Author's Father.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Cock Up Your Beaver.

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.

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

Mary Morison.

Tune - "Bide ye yet."



I.

    O Mary, at thy window be,
        It is the wish'd, the trysted hour!
    Those smiles and glances let me see
        That make the miser's treasure poor:
    How blithely wad I bide the stoure,
        A weary slave frae sun to sun;
    Could I the rich reward secure,
        The lovely Mary Morison!

II.

    Yestreen, when to the trembling string
        The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha',
    To thee my fancy took its wing,
        I sat, but neither heard or saw:
    Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,
        And yon the toast of a' the town,
    I sigh'd, and said amang them a',
        "Ye are na Mary Morison."

III.

    O Mary, canst thou wreck hi...

Robert Burns

The Highland Lassie.

Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddy!"


I.

    Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
    Shall ever be my muse's care:
    Their titles a' are empty show;
    Gie me my Highland lassie, O.
            Within the glen sae bushy, O,
            Aboon the plains sae rushy, O,
            I set me down wi' right good-will,
            To sing my Highland lassie, O.

II.

    Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
    Yon palace and yon gardens fine,
    The world then the love should know
    I bear my Highland lassie, O.

III.

    But fickle fortune frowns on me,
    And I maun cross the raging sea;
    But while my crimson currents flow,
    I'll love my Highland lassie, O.

IV.

    A...

Robert Burns

O Poortith Cauld.

Tune - "I had a horse."



I.

    O poortith cauld, and restless love,
        Ye wreck my peace between ye;
    Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
            An' twere na' for my Jeanie.
                O why should fate sic pleasure have,
                    Life's dearest bands untwining?
                Or why sae sweet a flower as love
                    Depend on fortune's shining?

II.

    This warld's wealth when I think on,
        It's pride, and a' the lave o't
    Fie, fie on silly coward man,
        That he should be the slave o't!

III.

    Her een sae bonnie blue betray
        How she repays my passion;
    But prudence is her o'erword ay,
        She talks of rank and fashion.

Robert Burns

Highland Mary.

Tune - "Katherine Ogie."


I.

    Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
        The castle o' Montgomery,
    Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
        Your waters never drumlie!
    There Simmer first unfauld her robes,
        And there the langest tarry;
    For there I took the last farewell
        O' my sweet Highland Mary.

II.

    How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk,
        How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
    As underneath their fragrant shade
        I clasp'd her to my bosom!
    The golden hours, on angel wings,
        Flew o'er me and my dearie;
    For dear to me, as light and life,
        Was my sweet Highland Mary!

III.

    Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,

Robert Burns

The Lovely Lass Of Inverness.

Tune - "Lass of Inverness."


I.

    The lovely lass o' Inverness,
        Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
    For e'en and morn, she cries, alas!
        And ay the saut tear blin's her e'e:
    Drumossie moor, Drumossie day
        A waefu' day it was to me!
    For there I lost my father dear,
        My father dear, and brethren three.

II.

    Their winding sheet the bluidy clay,
        Their graves are growing green to see:
    And by them lies the dearest lad
        That ever blest a woman's e'e!
    Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
        A bluidy man I trow thou be;
    For mony a heart thou host made sair,
        That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.

Robert Burns