When I Think On The Happy Days.

I.

    When I think on the happy days
        I spent wi' you, my dearie;
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I be but eerie!

II.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
        As ye were wae and weary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.

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

O, For Ane-And-Twenty, Tam!

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

On The Recovery Of Jessy Lewars.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Out Over The Forth.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Epistle To J. Rankine, Enclosing Some Poems.

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.

How Long And Dreary Is The Night.

To a Gaelic air.


I.

    How long and dreary is the night
        When I am frae my dearie!
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

II.

    When I think on the happy days
        I spent wi' you, my dearie,
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I but be eerie!
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I be but eerie!

III.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
        As ye were wae and weary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.

Robert Burns

How Lang And Dreary Is The Night.

Tune - "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen."


I.

    How lang and dreary is the night,
        When I am frae my dearie;
    I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Though I were ne'er sae weary.
            For oh! her lanely nights are lang;
                And oh! her dreams are eerie;
            And oh, her widow'd heart is sair,
                That's absent frae her dearie.

II.

    When I think on the lightsome days
        I spent wi' thee my dearie;
    And now what seas between us roar -
        How can I be but eerie?

III.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
        The joyless day how dreary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.
            For oh! her lanely ...

Robert Burns

Auld Rob Morris.

I.

    There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
    He's the king o' guid fellows and wale of auld men;
    He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine,
    And ae bonnie lassie, his darling and mine.

II.

    She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May;
    She's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay;
    As blythe and as artless as the lamb on the lea,
    And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e.

III.

    But oh! she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird,
    And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard;
    A wooer like me mamma hope to come speed;
    The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead.

IV.

    The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane;
    The night comes to me, but my...

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

To Mrs. Scott, Of Wauchope.

    I mind it weel in early date,
    When I was beardless, young and blate,
        An' first could thresh the barn;
    Or hand a yokin at the pleugh;
    An' tho' forfoughten sair enough,
        Yet unco proud to learn:
    When first amang the yellow corn
        A man I reckon'd was,
    An' wi' the lave ilk merry morn
        Could rank my rig and lass,
            Still shearing, and clearing,
                The tither stooked raw,
            Wi' claivers, an' haivers,
                Wearing the day awa.

    E'en then, a wish, I mind its pow'r,
    A wish that to my latest hour
        Shall strongly heave my breast,
    That I for poor auld Scotland's sake
    Some usefu' plan or beuk could make,
        Or sing a sang at least...

Robert Burns

Whan I Sleep I Dream.

I.

    Whan I sleep I dream,
        Whan I wauk I'm eerie,
    Sleep I canna get,
        For thinkin' o' my dearie.

II.

    Lanely night comes on,
        A' the house are sleeping,
    I think on the bonnie lad
        That has my heart a keeping.
            Ay waukin O, waukin ay and wearie,
                Sleep I canna get, for thinkin' o' my dearie.

III.

    Lanely nights come on,
        A' the house are sleeping,
    I think on my bonnie lad,
        An' I blear my een wi' greetin'!
            Ay waukin, &c.

Robert Burns