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
........
The Rigs O' Barley
  _
It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held away to Annie:   _
The time flew by wi' tentless heed
Till 'tween the late and early,
Wi' sma' persuasion, she agreed   _
To see me thro' the barley.
Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonnie:   _
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.
  _
The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly:
I set her down, wi' right good will,   _
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I ken't her heart was a' my ain:
I lov'd her most sincerely;   _
I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.
Corn rigs...   _

I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:   _
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and stars so bright,   _
That shone that hour so clearly!
She aye shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o' barley.   _
Corn rigs...

I ha'e been blythe wi' comrades dear;   _
I ha'e been merry drinkin';
I ha'e been joyfu' gatherin' gear;
I ha'e been happy thinkin':   _
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho' three times doubled fairly,
That happy night was worth then a',   _
Amang the rigs o' barley.
Corn rigs...
........
The Wounded Hare
  _
Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art, And blasted by thy murder-aiming eye; May never pity soothe thee with a sigh,
Nor never pleasure glad thy cruel heart!
  _
Go live, poor wanderer of the wood and field, The bitter little of life that remains! No more the thickening brakes and verdant plains
To thee shall home, or food, or pastime yield.
  _
Seek, mangled wretch, some place of wonted rest, No more of rest, but now of dying bed! The sheltering rushes whistling o'er thy head,
The cold earth with thy bloody bosom Crest.
  _
Oft as by winding Nith I, musing, wait The sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn, I'll miss thee sporting o'er the dewy lawn,
And curse the ruffian's aim, and mourn thy hapless fate.
........
Thou Lingering Star
  _
Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usherast in the day My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary, dear departed shade Where is thy place of blissful rest?   _
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

That sacred hour can I forget? Can I forget the hallow'd grove   _
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, To live one day of parting love?
Eternity cannot efface Those records dear of transports past,
Thy image at our last embraceÑ Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!   _

Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild-woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar, Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene;   _
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest The birds sang love on every spray
Till too, too soon, the glowing west, Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.
  _
Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, And fondly broods with miser-care;
Time but th' impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear.
O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest?   _
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
........
To A Kiss
  _
Humid seal of soft affections, Tend'rest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connections, Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.
  _
Speaking silence, dumb confession, Passion's birth, and infants' play,
Dove-like fondness, chaste concession, Glowing dawn of brighter day.
  _
Sorrowing joy, adieu's last action, Ling'ring lips, Ñ no more to join!
What words can ever speak affection Thrilling and sincere as thine!
........
To A Louse
  _
On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church
Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;   _
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace,
Tho faith! I fear ye dine but sparely   _
On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,   _
Detested, shunn'd by saunt an sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon herÑ
Sae fine a lady!   _
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.
  _
Swith! in some beggar's hauffet squattle;
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle;
Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle;   _
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.   _

Now haud you there! ye're out o' sight,
Below the fatt'rils, snug an tight,   _
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right,
Till ye've got on itÑ
The vera tapmost, tow'rin height   _
O' Miss's bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,   _
As plump an grey as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,   _
I'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't,
Wad dress your droddum!
  _
I wad na been surpris'd to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen toy
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,   _
On's wyliecoat;
But Miss's fine Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?   _

O Jeany, dinna toss your head,
An set your beauties a' abread!   _
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie's makin!
Thae winks an finger-ends, I dread,   _
Are notice takin!

O wad some Power the giftie gie us   _
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
An foolish notion:   _
What airs in dress an gait wad lea'es us,
An ev'n devotion!