Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Here
FORLORN, my Love, no comfort near,Far, far from thee, I wander here;Far, far from thee, the fate severe,At which I most repine, Love.Chorus.—O wert..
© Robert Burns
On Elphinstone's Translation Of Martial's Epigrams
O THOU whom Poetry abhors,Whom Prose has turnèd out of doors,Heard'st thou yon groan?—proceed no further,'Twas laurel'd Martial calling murther.
© Robert Burns
My Lord A-Hunting He Is Gane
Chorus.—MY lady's gown, there's gairs upon't,And gowden flowers sae rare upon't;But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,My lord thinks meikle mair upon't.My..
© Robert Burns
152. Extempore In The Court Of Session
LORD ADVOCATEHE clenched his pamphlet in his fist,He quoted and he hinted,Till, in a declamation-mist,His argument he tint it:He gapèd for't, he..
© Robert Burns
Death And Dr. Hornbook
SOME books are lies frae end to end,And some great lies were never penn'd:Ev'n ministers they hae been kenn'd,In holy rapture,A rousing whid at times..
© Robert Burns
Election Ballad At Close Of Contest For Representing The Dumfries Burghs, 1790
FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife,Friend o' my muse, friend o' my life,Are ye as idle's I am?Come then, wi' uncouth kintra fleg,O'er Pegasus I'll..
© Robert Burns
Poem On Pastoral Poetry
HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv'd!In chase o' thee, what crowds hae swerv'dFrae common sense, or sunk enerv'd'Mang heaps o' clavers:And och! o'er aft..
© Robert Burns
Epigram On Andrew Turner
IN se'enteen hunder'n forty-nine,The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,An' coost it in a corner;But wilily he chang'd his plan,An' shap'd it something..
© Robert Burns
Sweet Afton
FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,Flow..
© Robert Burns
The Farewell To The Brethren Of St. James's Lodge, Tarbolton
ADIEU! a heart-warm fond adieu;Dear brothers of the mystic tie!Ye favourèd, enlighten'd few,Companions of my social joy;Tho' I to foreign lands must..
© Robert Burns
Lord Gregory: A Ballad
O MIRK, mirk is this midnight hour,And loud the tempest's roar;A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,Lord Gregory, ope thy door.An exile frae her..
© Robert Burns
The Belles Of Mauchline
IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles,The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a';Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess,In..
© Robert Burns
Commemoration Of Rodney's Victory
INSTEAD of a Song, boy's, I'll give you a Toast;Here's to the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost!—That we lost, did I say?—nay, by Heav'n..
© Robert Burns
Epitaph On &Quot;Wee Johnnie&Quot;
WHOE'ER thou art, O reader, knowThat Death has murder'd Johnie;An' here his body lies fu' low;For saul he ne'er had ony.
© Robert Burns
On Chloris Being Ill
Chorus—Long, long the night,Heavy comes the morrowWhile my soul's delightIs on her bed of sorrow.CAN I cease to care?Can I cease to languish,While my..
© Robert Burns
Rantin, Rovin Robin
THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle,But whatna day o' whatna style,I doubt it's hardly worth the whileTo be sae nice wi' Robin.Chor.—Robin was a..
© Robert Burns
On The Late Captain Grose's Peregrinations
HEAR, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;—If there's a hole in a' your coats,I rede you tent it:A chield's amang you..
© Robert Burns
Mr. William Smellie: A Sketch
SHREWD Willie Smellie to Crochallan came;The old cock'd hat, the grey surtout the same;His bristling beard just rising in its might,'Twas four long..
© Robert Burns
Song—stay My Charmer
STAY my charmer, can you leave me?Cruel, cruel to deceive me;Well you know how much you grieve me;Cruel charmer, can you go!Cruel charmer, can you..
© Robert Burns
Farewell To The Banks Of Ayr
THE GLOOMY night is gath'ring fast,Loud roars the wild, inconstant blast,Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,I see it driving o'er the plain;The hunter..
© Robert Burns
The Bard At Inverary
WHOE'ER he be that sojourns here,I pity much his case,Unless he comes to wait uponThe Lord their God, His Grace.There's naething here but Highland..
© Robert Burns
The Author's Earnest Cry And Prayer
YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires,Wha represent our brughs an' shires,An' doucely manage our affairsIn parliament,To you a simple poet's..
© Robert Burns
Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots
NOW Nature hangs her mantle greenOn every blooming tree,And spreads her sheets o' daisies whiteOut o'er the grassy lea;Now Phoebus cheers the crystal..
© 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..
© Robert Burns
Song—beware O' Bonie Ann
YE gallants bright, I rede you right,Beware o' bonie Ann;Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,Your heart she will trepan:Her een sae bright, like stars..
© Robert Burns