Whare Hae Ye Been.

Tune - "Killiecrankie."


I.

    Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
        Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O?
    O, whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
        Cam ye by Killiecrankie, O?
    An' ye had been whare I hae been,
        Ye wad na been so cantie, O;
    An' ye had seen what I hae seen,
        On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.

II.

    I fought at land, I fought at sea;
        At hame I fought my auntie, O;
    But I met the Devil an' Dundee,
        On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.
    The bauld Pitcur fell in a furr,
        An' Clavers got a clankie, O;
    Or I had fed on Athole gled,
        On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.

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 Calf. - To The Rev. Mr. James Steven.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Frae The Friends And Land I Love.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On R.A., Esq.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To Dr. Maxwell, On Jessie Staig's Recovery.

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.

O Whar Did Ye Get

Tune - "Bonnie Dundee."


I.

    O, whar did ye get that hauver meal bannock?
        O silly blind body, O dinna ye see?
    I gat it frae a young brisk sodger laddie,
        Between Saint Johnston and bonnie Dundee.
    O gin I saw the laddie that gae me't!
        Aft has he doudl'd me up on his knee;
    May Heaven protect my bonnie Scots laddie,
        And send him safe hame to his babie and me!

II.

    My blessin's upon thy sweet wee lippie,
        My blessin's upon thy bonnie e'e brie!
    Thy smiles are sae like my blythe sodger laddie,
        Thou's ay the dearer and dearer to me!
    But I'll big a bower on yon bonnie banks,
        Where Tay rins wimplin' by sae clear;
    And I'll cleed thee in the tartan...

Robert Burns

The Bairns Gat Out.

Tune - "The deuks dang o'er my daddie."


I.

    The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout,
        The deuks dang o'er my daddie, O!
    The fien'-ma-care, quo' the feirrie auld wife,
        He was but a paidlin body, O!
    He paidles out, an' he paidles in,
        An' he paidles late an' early, O!
    This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
        An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O!

II.

    O, hand your tongue, my feirrie auld wife,
        O, haud your tongue, now Nansie, O!
    I've seen the day, and sae hae ye,
        Ye wadna been sae donsie, O!
    I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose,
        And cuddled me late and early, O!
    But downa do's come o'er me now,
        And, oh! I feel it sairly, O...

Robert Burns

Ca' The Ewes.

Tune - "Ca' the ewes to the knowes."


Chorus

    Ca' the ewes to the knowes,
    Ca' them whare the heather grows,
    Ca' them whare the burnie rowes,
        My bonnie dearie!

I.

    As I gaed down the water-side,
    There I met my shepherd lad,
    He row'd me sweetly in his plaid,
        An' he ca'd me his dearie.

II.

    Will ye gang down the water-side,
    And see the waves sae sweetly glide,
    Beneath the hazels spreading wide?
        The moon it shines fu' clearly.

III.

    I was bred up at nae sic school,
    My shepherd lad, to play the fool,
    And a' the day to sit in dool,
        And naebody to see me.

IV.

    Ye sall get gowns and ribbons...

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

The Battle Of Sheriff-Muir.

Tune - "Cameronian Rant."


I.

        "O cam ye here the fight to shun,
        Or herd the sheep wi' me, man?
    Or were ye at the Sherra-muir,
        And did the battle see, man?"
    I saw the battle, sair and tough,
    And reekin' red ran mony a sheugh.
    My heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough,
    To hear the thuds, and see the cluds,
    O' clans frae woods, in tartan duds,
        Wha glaum'd at kingdoms three, man.

II.

    The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades,
        To meet them were na slaw, man;
    They rush'd and push'd, and blude outgush'd,
        And mony a bouk did fa', man:
    The great Argyll led on his files,
    I wat they glanc'd for twenty miles:
    They hough'd the clans like...

Robert Burns

Epistle To J. Rankine, Enclosing Some Poems.

    O rough, rude, ready-witted Rankine,
    The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin'!
    There's monie godly folks are thinkin',
        Your dreams^[1] an' tricks
    Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin'
        Straught to auld Nick's.

    Ye hae sae monie cracks an' cants,
    And in your wicked, dru'ken rants,
    Ye mak a devil o' the saunts,
        An' fill them fou;
    And then their failings, flaws, an' wants,
        Are a' seen through.

    Hypocrisy, in mercy spare it!
    That holy robe, O dinna tear it!
    Spare't for their sakes wha aften wear it,
        The lads in black!
    But your curst wit, when it comes near it,
        Rives't aff their back.

    Think, wicked sinner, wha ye're skaithing,
   ...

Robert Burns