Young Jockey.

Tune - "Young Jockey."


I.

    Young Jockey was the blythest lad
        In a' our town or here awa:
    Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud,
        Fu' lightly danced he in the ha'.
    He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue,
        He roos'd my waist sae genty sma',
    And ay my heart came to my mou'
        When ne'er a body heard or saw.

II.

    My Jockey toils upon the plain,
        Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw;
    And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain,
        When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.
    An' ay the night comes round again,
        When in his arms he takes me a',
    An' ay he vows he'll be my ain,
        As lang's he has a breath to draw.

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

Verses - Written Under The Portrait Of Fergusson, The Poet, In A Copy Of That Author's Works Presented To A Young Lady.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Red, Red Rose.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Lying At A Reverend Friend's House On Night, The Author Left The Following Verses In The Room Where He Slept.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Sonnet, Written On The Twenty-Fifth Of January, 1793, The Birthday Of The Author, On Hearing A Thrush Sing In A Morning Walk.

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.

Jockey's Ta'En The Parting Kiss.

Tune - "Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss."


I.

    Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss,
        O'er the mountains he is gane;
    And with him is a' my bliss,
        Nought but griefs with me remain.
    Spare my luve, ye winds that blaw,
        Plashy sleets and beating rain!
    Spare my luve, thou feathery snaw,
        Drifting o'er the frozen plain.

II.

    When the shades of evening creep
        O'er the day's fair, gladsome e'e,
    Sound and safely may he sleep,
        Sweetly blithe his waukening be!
    He will think on her he loves,
        Fondly he'll repeat her name;
    For where'er he distant roves,
        Jockey's heart is still at hame.

Robert Burns

The Young Highland Rover.

Tune - "Morag."


I.

    Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
        The snaws the mountains cover;
    Like winter on me seizes,
        Since my young Highland rover
        Far wanders nations over.
    Where'er he go, where'er he stray.
        May Heaven be his warden:
    Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
        And bonnie Castle-Gordon!

II.

    The trees now naked groaning,
        Shall Soon wi' leaves be hinging.
    The birdies dowie moaning,
        Shall a' be blithely singing,
        And every flower be springing.
    Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day
        When by his mighty Warden
    My youth's returned to fair Strathspey,
        And bonnie Castle-Gordon.

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

Lady Mary Ann.

Tune - "Craigtown's growing."


I.

    O, Lady Mary Ann
        Looks o'er the castle wa',
    She saw three bonnie boys
        Playing at the ba';
    The youngest he was
        The flower amang them a'
    My bonnie laddie's young,
        But he's growin' yet.

II.

    O father! O father!
        An' ye think it fit,
    We'll send him a year
        To the college yet:
    We'll sew a green ribbon
        Round about his hat,
    And that will let them ken
        He's to marry yet.

III.

    Lady Mary Ann
        Was a flower i' the dew,
    Sweet was its smell,
        And bonnie was its hue;
    And the langer it blossom'd
        The sweeter it grew;
    Fo...

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

Jockey an Dolly.

Th' sun shone breet at early morn,
Burds sang sweetly on the trees;
Larks wor springin from the corn,
Tender blossoms sowt the breeze.
Jockey whistled as he went
O'er rich meadows wet wi' dew;
In his breast wor sweet content,
For his wants an cares were few.
Dolly passed him on his way,
Fresh an sweet an fair wor she;
Jockey lost his heart that day,
To the maid ov Salterlee.
Jockey an Dolly
Had allus been jolly,
Till Love shot his arrow an wounded the twain;
Their days then pass sadly,
Yet man an maid madly,
In spite ov the torture, they nursed the sweet pain.

Since that day did jockey pine,
Dolly shyly kept apart;
Still shoo milk'd her willin kine,
Tho' shoo nursed a braikin heart,
But one neet they met i'th' fold,
Whe...

John Hartley