30 Poems of Robert Burns

A Man's A Man For A' That
Address To The Tooth-Ache
Again Rejoicing Nature Sees
Anna
Craigieburn Wood
Despondency Ñ An Ode
Handsome Nell
Here's A Health To Them That's Awa
Highland Mary
Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Approach Of Spring
Mary Morison
My Nannie, O
Now Spring Has Clad The Grove In Green
O, Were My Love
On a Bank of Flowers
Peggy
Scotch Drink
Scots Wha Hae
She Says She Lo'es Me Best Of A'
The Banks O' Doon
The Battle of Sherramuir
The Birks Of Aberfeldie
The Lass Of Cessnock Banks
The Rigs O' Barley
The Wounded Hare
Thou Lingering Star
To A Kiss
To A Louse
To a Mouse
To the Wood-Lark
........
She Says She Lo'es Me Best Of A'
  _
Sae flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrow of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly, o'er-arching Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue.
Her smiling sae wiling,   _
Wad make a wretch forget his woe;
What pleasure, what treasure,
Unto these rosy lips to grow:   _
Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
When first her bonnie face I saw,
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,   _
She says she lo'es me best of a'.

Like harmony her motion;   _
Her pretty ankle is a spy
Betraying fair proportion,
Wad mak a saint forget the sky.   _
Sae warming, sae charming,
Her fautless form and gracefu' air;
Ilk feature Ñ auld Nature   _
Declar'd that she could do nae mair:
Hers are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering Beauty's sovereign law;   _
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
  _
Let others love the city
And gaudy show at sunny noon;
Gie me the lonely valley,   _
The dewy eve, and rising moon;
Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silver light the boughs amang;   _
While falling, recalling,
The amorous thrush concludes his sang:
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove   _
By wimpling burn and leafy shaw,
And hear my vows o' truth and love,
And say thou lo'es me best of a'.
........
The Banks O' Doon
  _
Ye flowery banks o'bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care!
  _
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause luve was true.
  _
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate.
  _
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the wood-bine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its love,   _
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose   _
Frae aff its thorny tree,
And my fause luver staw the rose,
But left the thorn wi' me.   _

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June:   _
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
And sae was pu'd oor noon!
........
The Battle of Sherramuir
  _
O cam ye here the fight to shun, Or herd the sheep wi' me, man?
Or were ye at the Sherra-moor, Or did the battle see, man?
I saw the battle, sair and teugh And reekin-red ran monie a sheugh;   _
My heart, for fear, gae 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.

The red-coat lads wi' black cockauds,   _
To meet them were na slaw, man;
They rush'd and push'd, and bluid outgush'd,
And monie a bouk did fa', man!   _
The great Argyle led on his files,
I wat they glanc'd for twenty miles;
They hough'd the clans like nine-pin kyles,   _
They hack'd and hash'd, while braid-swords clashed,
And thro they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd,
Till fey men died awa, man.   _

But had ye seen the philibegs,
And skyrin tartan trews, man;   _
When in the teeth they daur'd our Whigs,
And Covenant trueblues, man!
In lines extended lang and large,   _
When baig'nets o'erpower'd the targe,
And thousands hasten'd to the charge,
Wi' Highland wrath and frac the sheath   _
Drew blades o' death, till, out o' breath.
They fled like frightened dows, man!
  _
O, how Deil, Tam, can that be true?
The chase gaed frae the north, man!
I saw mysel, they did pursue   _
The horseman back to Forth, man:
And at Dunblane, in my ain sight,
They took the brig wi a' their might   _
And straught to Stirling wing'd their flight;
But, cursed lot! the gates were shut,
And monie a huntit poor red-coat,   _
For fear amaist did swarf, man!

My sister Kate came up the gate   _
Wi' crowdie unto me, man:
She swoor she saw some rebels run
To Perth and to Dundee, man!   _
Their left-hand general had nae skill;
The Angus lads had nae good will
That day their neebors' bluid to spill;   _
For fear, by foes, that they should lose
Their cogs o brose; they scar'd at blows,
And hameward fast did flee, man.   _

They've lost some gallant gentlemen,
Amang the Highland clans, man!   _
I fear my Lord Panmure is slain,
Or in his en'mies' hands, man.
Now wad ye sing this double flight,   _
Some fell for wrang, and some for right,
But monie bade the world guid-night;
Say, pell and mell, wi' muskets' knell   _
How Tories feil, and Whigs to Hell
Flew off in frightened bands, man!
........
The Birks Of Aberfeldie
  _
Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come, let us spend the lightsome days   _
In the birks of Aberfeldie! Bonnie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go, Bonnie lassie, will ye go To the birks of Aberfeldie?

The little birdies blithely sing,   _
While o'er their heads the hazels hing;
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldie!   _
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,   _
The foaming stream, deep-roaring, fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldie.   _
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,   _
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And, rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldie.   _
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...

Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,   _
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the birks of Aberfeldie.   _
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...
........
The Lass Of Cessnock Banks
  _
On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells, Could I describe her shape and mien!
Our lasses a' she far excelsÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
She's sweeter than the morning dawn, When rising Phoebus first is seen,
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawnÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
She's stately like yon youthful ash, That grows the cowslip braes between,
And drinks the stream with vigour freshÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn, With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,
When purest in the dewy mornÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her looks are like the vernal May, When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene,
While birds rejoice on every sprayÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her hair is like the curling mist, That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,
When flower-reviving rains are pastÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her forehead's like the show'ry bow, When gleaming sunbeams intervene,
And gild the distant mountain's browÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem, The pride of all the flowery scene,
Just opening on its thorny stemÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her bosom's like the nightly snow, When pale the morning rises keen,
While hid the murm'ring streamlets flowÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her lips are like yon cherries ripe, That sunny walls from Boreas screen:
They tempt the taste and charm the sight An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her teeth are like a flock of sheep, With fleeces newly washen clean,
That slowly mount the rising steepÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her breath is like the fragrant breeze, That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,
When Phoebus sinks behind the seasÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush, That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,
While his mate sits nestling in the bushÑ An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
  _
But it's not her air, her form, her face, Tho matching Beauty's fabled Queen:
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry graceÑ An chiefly in her rogueish een!