Written On A Pane Of Glass, In The Inn At Moffat.

    Ask why God made the gem so small,
        And why so huge the granite?
    Because God meant mankind should set
        The higher value on it.

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

I'll Ay Ca' In By Yon Town.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Farewell.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Gane Is The Day.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Invitation.

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.

Verses Written On A Window Of The Inn At Carron.

    We came na here to view your warks
        In hopes to be mair wise,
    But only, lest we gang to hell,
        It may be nae surprise:

    For whan we tirl'd at your door,
        Your porter dought na hear us;
    Sae may, shou'd we to hell's yetts come
        Your billy Satan sair us!

Robert Burns

Lines Written On A Window Of The Globe Tavern, Dumfries.

    The greybeard, old Wisdom, may boast of his treasures,
        Give me with gay Folly to live;
    I grant him his calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures,
        But Folly has raptures to give.

Robert Burns

Written At Inverary.

    Whoe'er he be that sojourns here,
        I pity much his case,
    Unless he's come to wait upon
        The Lord their God, his Grace.

    There's naething here but Highland pride
        And Highland cauld and hunger;
    If Providence has sent me here,
        T'was surely in his anger.

Robert Burns

Lines Written On A Window.

    Ye men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering
    'Gainst poor Excisemen? give the cause a hearing;
    What are you, landlords' rent-rolls? teasing ledgers:
    What premiers, what? even monarchs' mighty gaugers:
    Nay, what are priests, those seeming godly wise men?
    What are they, pray, but spiritual Excisemen?

Robert Burns

Johannes Agricola In Meditation

There's heaven above, and night by night
I look right through its gorgeous roof;
No suns and moons though e'er so bright
Avail to stop me; splendor-proof
I keep the broods of stars aloof:
For I intend to get to God,
For 't is to God I speed so fast,
For in God's    breast, my own abode,
Those shoals of dazzling glory, passed,
I lay my spirit down at last.
I lie where I have always lain,
God smiles as he has always smiled;
Ere suns and moons could wax and wane,
Ere stars were thundergirt, or piled
The heavens, God thought on me his child;
Ordained a life for me, arrayed
Its circumstances every one
To the minutest; ay, God said
This head this hand should rest upon
Thus, ere he fashioned star or sun.
And having thus created me,
Thus roote...

Robert Browning

On Seeing Verses Written Upon Windows At Inns (Epigrams On Windows)

The sage, who said he should be proud
    Of windows in his breast,[1]
Because he ne'er a thought allow'd
    That might not be confest;
His window scrawl'd by every rake,
    His breast again would cover,
And fairly bid the devil take
    The diamond and the lover.

Jonathan Swift