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Robert Burns

Robert Burns

Song: Anna Thy Charms

ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,
And waste my soul with care;
But ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!
 
 
Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,
To hope may be forgiven;
For sure ’twere impious to despair
So much in sight of heaven.

#Scots

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Autres oeuvres par Robert Burns...
Nature’s Law: a Poem

LET other heroes boast their scar… The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa’ the fun, wi’ sword and g…
My Girl She’s Airy: a Fragment

MY girl she’s airy, she’s buxom a… Her breath is as sweet as the blos… A touch of her lips it ravishes qu… She’s always good natur’d, good hu… She dances, she glances, she smile…
Epitaph for Robert Aiken, Esq.

KNOW thou, O stranger to the fam… Of this much lov’d, much honoured… (For none that knew him need be to… A warmer heart death ne’er made co…
Ronalds of the Bennals, The

In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are p… And proper young lasses and a’, ma… But ken ye the Ronalds that live… They carry the gree frae them a’,… Their father’s laird, and weel he…
Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787

AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roa… Whom kingdoms on this day should h… An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter ta…
Epistle to Major Logan

HAIL, thairm-inspirin’, rattlin’… Tho’ fortune’s road be rough an’ h… To every fiddling, rhyming billie, We never heed, But take it like the unback’d fill…
Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election’s No. 3

’Twas in the seventeen hunder year O’ grace, and ninety-five, That year I was the wae’est man Of ony man alive. In March the three-an’-twentieth…
Scots Wha Hae

Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour:
Epitaph on William Muir

AN HONEST man here lies at res… As e’er God with his image blest; The friend of man, the friend of t… The friend of age, and guide of yo… Few hearts like his, with virtue w…
Ye Flowery Banks

Ye flowery banks o’ bonnie 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…
Leezie Lindsay

Will ye go the Highlands Leezie… Will ye go to the Highlands wi’ m… Will ye go to the Highlands Leezi… My pride and my darling to be.
Here’s to Thy Health, my Bonie Lass

HERE’S to thy health, my bonie l… Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-do… To tell thee that I lo’e thee. O dinna think, my pretty pink,
To the Owl

Sad bird of night, what sorrows ca… To vent thy plaints thus in the mi… Is it some blast that gathers in t… Threatening to nip the verdure of… Is it, sad oul, that Autumn strip…
A Bard’s Epitaph

Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot fo… Owre blate to seek, owre proud to… Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing doo…
Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation

Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory, Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish nam… Sae fam’d in martial story. Now Sark rins o’er the Solway san…



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