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Poems begining by &

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258. Epistle to James Tennant of Glenconner

© Robert Burns

Now fare ye weel, an’ joy be wi’ you:
For my sake, this I beg it o’ you,
Assist poor Simson a’ ye can,
Ye’ll fin; him just an honest man;
Sae I conclude, and quat my chanter,
Your’s, saint or sinner,ROB THE RANTER.

372. Song—Kellyburn Braes

© Robert Burns

THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn Braes,
Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme;
And he had a wife was the plague of his days,
And the thyme it is wither’d, and rue is in prime.

324. Song—The Charms of Lovely Davies

© Robert Burns

O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try
The poet’s occupation?
The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours,
That whisper inspiration;

556. Inscription to Jessie Lewars

© Robert Burns

All blameless joys on earth we find,
And all the treasures of the mind—
These be thy guardian and reward;
So prays thy faithful friend, the Bard.DUMFRIES, June 26, 1769.

149. Mr. William Smellie: A Sketch

© Robert Burns

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 nights and days to shaving night:

488. Song—The Winter of Life

© Robert Burns

BUT lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoic’d the day,
Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing flowers
In double pride were gay:

503. inscription on Mr. Syme’s crystal goblet

© Robert Burns

THERE’S Death in the cup, so beware!
Nay, more—there is danger in touching;
But who can avoid the fell snare,
The man and his wine’s so bewitching!

346. Song—Such a parcel of Rogues in a Nation

© Robert Burns

FAREWEEL to a’ our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name,
Sae fam’d in martial story.

518. Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 1

© Robert Burns

WHOM will you send to London town,
To Parliament and a’ that?
Or wha in a’ the country round
The best deserves to fa’ that?

458. Epitaph on John Busby, Esq., Tinwald Downs

© Robert Burns

HERE lies John Bushby—honest man,
Cheat him, Devil—if you can!

182. The Libeller’s Self-reproof

© Robert Burns

RASH 1 mortal, and slanderous poet, thy name
Shall no longer appear in the records of Fame;
Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible,
Says, the more ’tis a truth, sir, the more ’tis a libel!

509. Song—Fragment—There was a Bonie Lass

© Robert Burns

THERE was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass,
And she lo’ed her bonie laddie dear;
Till War’s loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms,
Wi’ mony a sigh and tear.

211. Song—My Hoggie

© Robert Burns

WHAT will I do gin my Hoggie die?
My joy, my pride, my Hoggie!
My only beast, I had nae mae,
And vow but I was vogie!

433. Song—Down the Burn, Davie love

© Robert Burns

AS down the burn they took their way,
And thro’ the flowery dale;
His cheek to hers he aft did lay,
And love was aye the tale:

383. Song—My Wife’s a winsome wee thing

© Robert Burns

Chorus.—She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a lo’esome wee thing,
This dear wee wife o’ mine.

278. On the late Captain Grose’s Peregrinations

© Robert Burns

Now, by the Pow’rs o’ verse and prose!
Thou art a dainty chield, O Grose!—
Whae’er o’ thee shall ill suppose,
They sair misca’ thee;
I’d take the rascal by the nose,
Wad say, “Shame fa’ thee!”

243. Elegy on the Year 1788

© Robert Burns

FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn,
E’en let them die-for that they’re born:
But oh! prodigious to reflec’!
A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck!

111. Address to Beelzebub

© Robert Burns

LONG life, my Lord, an’ health be yours,
Unskaithed by hunger’d Highland boors;
Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,
Wi’ dirk, claymore, and rusty trigger,

432. Song—Behold the hour, etc. (Second Version)

© Robert Burns

BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive;
Thou goest, the darling of my heart;
Sever’d from thee, can I survive,
But Fate has will’d and we must part.

420. Lines of John M’Murdo, Esq.

© Robert Burns

BLEST be M’Murdo to his latest day!
No envious cloud o’ercast his evening ray;
No wrinkle, furrow’d by the hand of care,
Nor ever sorrow add one silver hair!
O may no son the father’s honour stain,
Nor ever daughter give the mother pain!

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