Yon Wild Mossy Mountains.

Tune - "Yon wild mossy mountains."


I.

    Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,
    That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,
    Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
    And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.
        Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
        And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

II.

    Not Gowrie's rich valleys, nor Forth's sunny shores,
    To me hae the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors;
    For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream,
    Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.
        For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream,
        Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

III.

    Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
    Ilk stream foaming down its ain green, narrow strath;
    For there, wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove,
    While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o' love.
        For there wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove,
        While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o' love.

IV.

    She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
    O' nice education but sma' is her share;
    Her parentage humble as humble can be;
    But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.
        Her parentage humble as humble can be;
        But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.

V.

    To beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
    In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
    And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
    They dazzle our een as they flee to our hearts.
        And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
        They dazzle our een, as they flee to our hearts.

VI.

    But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling e'e,
    Has lustre outshining the diamond to me:
    And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
    O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!
        And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
        O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!

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

On A Noisy Polemic.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Lover's Morning Salute To His Mistress.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

To John M'Murdo, Esq.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Meg O' The Mill.

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.

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

The Lass Of Ballochmyle.

Tune - "Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."


I.

    'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,
        On every blade the pearls hang,
    The zephyr wanton'd round the bean,
        And bore its fragrant sweets alang:
    In ev'ry glen the mavis sang,
        All nature listening seem'd the while,
    Except where greenwood echoes rang
        Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle!

II.

    With careless step I onward stray'd,
        My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy,
    When musing in a lonely glade,
        A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy;
    Her look was like the morning's eye,
        Her air like nature's vernal smile,
    Perfection whisper'd passing by,
        Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!

III.

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

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

This Is No My Ain Lassie.

Tune - "This is no my ain house."



I.

            O this is no my ain lassie,
                Fair tho' the lassie be;
            O weel ken I my ain lassie,
                Kind love is in her e'e.
    I see a form, I see a face,
    Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:
    It wants, to me, the witching grace,
        The kind love that's in her e'e.

II.

    She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,
    And lang has had my heart in thrall;
    And ay it charms my very saul,
        The kind love that's in her e'e.

III.

    A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
    To steal a blink, by a' unseen;
    But gleg as light are lovers' een,
        When kind love is in the e'e.

IV.

...

Robert Burns

On Cessnock Banks.

Tune - "If he be a butcher neat and trim."


I.

    On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;
        Could I describe her shape and mien;
    Our lasses a' she far excels,
        An she has twa sparkling roguish een.

II.

    She's sweeter than the morning dawn
        When rising Phoebus first is seen,
    And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn;
        An' she has twa sparkling roguish een

III.

    She's stately like yon youthful ash,
        That grows the cowslip braes between,
    And drinks the stream with vigour fresh;
        An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.

IV.

    She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,
        With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,
    When purest in the dew...

Robert Burns