Poems by Robert Burns

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To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, recommending a Boy



I hold it, sir, my bounden duty
To warn you how that Master Tootie,
Alias, Laird M’Gaun,
Was here to hire yon lad away
’Bout whom ye spak the tither day,
An’ wad hae don’t aff han’;
But lest he learn the callan tricks—
An’ faith I muckle doubt him—
Like scrapin out auld Crummie’s nicks,
An’ tellin lies about them;
As lieve then, I’d have then
Your clerkship he should sair,
If sae be ye may be
Not fitted otherwhere.

Altho’ I say’t, he’s gleg enough,
An’ ’bout a house that’s rude an’ rough,...

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Poems by Robert Burns

To Miss Ferrier, enclosing Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair



Nae heathen name shall I prefix,
Frae Pindus or Parnassus;
Auld Reekie dings them a’ to sticks,
For rhyme-inspiring lasses.

Jove’s tunefu’ dochters three times three
Made Homer deep their debtor;
But, gien the body half an e’e,
Nine Ferriers wad done better!

Last day my mind was in a bog,
Down George’s Street I stoited;
A creeping cauld prosaic fog
My very sense doited....

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Poems by Robert Burns

To Miss Logan, with Beatties Poems



Again the silent wheels of time
Their annual round have driven,
And you, tho’ scarce in maiden prime,
Are so much nearer Heaven.

No gifts have I from Indian coasts
The infant year to hail;
I send you more than India boasts,
In Edwin’s simple tale.

Our sex with guile, and faithless love,
Is charg’d, perhaps too true;
But may, dear maid, each lover prove
An Edwin still to you.

Poems by Robert Burns

Verses on Friars Carse Hermitage (First Version)



Thou whom chance may hither lead,
Be thou clad in russet weed,
Be thou deckt in silken stole,
Grave these maxims on thy soul.

Life is but a day at most,
Sprung from night, in darkness lost:
Hope not sunshine every hour,
Fear not clouds will always lour.

Happiness is but a name,
Make content and ease thy aim,
Ambition is a meteor-gleam;
Fame, an idle restless dream;...

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Poems by Robert Burns

Verses to Miss Cruickshank



Beauteous Rosebud, young and gay,
Blooming in thy early May,
Never may’st thou, lovely flower,
Chilly shrink in sleety shower!
Never Boreas’ hoary path,
Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath,
Never baleful stellar lights,
Taint thee with untimely blights!
Never, never reptile thief
Riot on thy virgin leaf!
Nor even Sol too fiercely view
Thy bosom blushing still with dew!

May’st thou long, sweet crimson gem,
Richly deck thy native stem;
Till some ev’ning, sober, calm,
Dropping dews, and breathing balm,
While all around the woodland rings,...

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Poems by Robert Burns

Winter: A Dirge



The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.

"The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,"
The joyless winter day
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!...

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Poems by Robert Burns

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