Car poems
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62. Epistle to William Simson
© Robert Burns
Sae, ye observe that a this clatter
Is naething but a moonshine matter;
But tho dull prose-folk Latin splatter
In logic tulyie,
I hope we bardies ken some better
Than mind sic brulyie.
The Occasion of the Law Suit. chapter I
© John Arbuthnot
The first letters of congratulation from King William and the
States of Holland upon King Philip's accession to the crown of
Spain.
* The English.
** The Dutch.
87. The Twa Dogs
© Robert Burns
Note 1. Luath was Burns own dog. [back]
Note 2. Cuchullins dog in Ossians Fingal.R. B. [back]
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
Tibbie Dunbar
© Robert Burns
O, wilt thou go wi' me,
Sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O, wilt thou go wi' me,
Sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
On Lady Charles Beauclerc's Death
© Walter Savage Landor
Nor empty are the honours that we pay
To the departed; our own hearts are fill'd
195. SongA Rose-bud by my Early Walk
© Robert Burns
A ROSE-BUD by my early walk,
Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
All on a dewy morning.
Acropolis
© Lawrence Durrell
The soft quem quam will be Scops the Owl
conjugation of nouns, a line of enquiry,
80. The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata
© Robert Burns
AirTuneSoldiers Joy.I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars,
And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;
This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,
When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
The Cupboard
© Arthur Rimbaud
O cupboard of old times, you know plenty of stories;
and you'd like to tell them;
and you clear your throat every time
your great dark doors slowly open.
John Barleycorn
© Robert Burns
There were three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
24. SongNo Churchman am I
© Robert Burns
NO churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business contriving a snare,
For a big-bellyd bottles the whole of my care.
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts I.-II.
© John Logan
Yet lost to fame is virtue's orient reign;
The patriot lived, the hero died in vain,
Dark night descended o'er the human day,
And wiped the glory of the world away:
Whirled round the gulf, the acts of time were tost,
Then in the vast abyss for ever lost.
Where They Lived by Marge Saiser: American Life in Poetry #104 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
At some time many of us will have to make a last visit to a house where aged parents lived out their days. Here Marge Saiser beautifully compresses one such farewell.
Where They Lived
306. Election Ballad at close of Contest for representing the Dumfries Burghs, 1790
© Robert Burns
Now, for my friends and brethrens sakes,
And for my dear-lovd Land o Cakes,
I pray with holy fire:
Lord, send a rough-shod troop o Hell
Oer a wad Scotland buy or sell,
To grind them in the mire!
133. The Brigs of Ayr
© Robert Burns
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough,
Learning his tuneful trade from evry bough;
The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush,
Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush;
164. SongA Bottle and Friend
© Robert Burns
HERES a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o care, man?
The Crown Of Life
© Edith Nesbit
THE days, the doubts, the dreams of pain
Are over, not to come again,
And from the menace of the night
Has dawned the day-star of delight:
My baby lies against me pressed--
Thus, Mother of God, are mothers blessed!
128. The Farewell
© Robert Burns
FAREWELL, old Scotias bleak domains,
Far dearer than the torrid plains,
Where rich ananas blow!
Farewell, a mothers blessing dear!
