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Nature poems

 / page 141 of 287 /

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457. Epitaph on Wm. Graham, Esq., of Mossknowe

© Robert Burns

“STOP thief!” dame Nature call’d to Death,
As Willy drew his latest breath;
How shall I make a fool again?
My choicest model thou hast ta’en.

538. Song—Now Spring has clad the grove in green

© Robert Burns

NOW spring has clad the grove in green,
And strew’d the lea wi’ flowers;
The furrow’d, waving corn is seen
Rejoice in fostering showers.

73. Song—Farewell to Ballochmyle

© Robert Burns

THE CATRINE woods were yellow seen,
The flowers decay’d on Catrine lee,
Nae lav’rock sang on hillock green,
But nature sicken’d on the e’e.

101. Song—Composed in Spring

© Robert Burns

AGAIN rejoicing Nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues:
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steep’d in morning dews.

Winter Violets

© Alfred Austin

Here are sad flowers, with wintry weeping wet,
Dews of the dark that drench the violet.
Thus over Her, whom death yet more endears,
Nature and Man together blend their tears.

The Monks Of Basle

© John Hay

I tore this weed from the rank, dark soil
Where it grew in the monkish time,
I trimmed it close and set it again
In a border of modern rhyme.

396. Song—Wandering Willie

© Robert Burns

HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Now tired with wandering, haud awa hame;
Come to my bosom, my ae only dearie,
And tell me thou bring’st me my Willie the same.

Ode IV: To The Honourable Charles Townshend In The Country

© Mark Akenside

I. 1.

How oft shall i survey

397. Song—Wandering Willie (Revised Version)

© Robert Burns

HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame;
Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie,
Tell me thou bring’st me my Willie the same.

183. Verses Written with a Pencil at the Inn at Kenmore

© Robert Burns

ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace,
These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;
O’er many a winding dale and painful steep,
Th’ abodes of covey’d grouse and timid sheep,

56. Epistle to Davie, A Brother Poet

© Robert Burns

WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw,
An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw,
An’ hing us owre the ingle,
I set me down to pass the time,

489. Song—Behold, my love, how green the groves

© Robert Burns

BEHOLD, my love, how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair;
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flowing hair.

The Alchemist

© Ezra Pound

Chant for the Transmutation of Metals

Sail of Claustra, Aelis, Azalais,

260. Sketch in Verse, inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox

© Robert Burns

But now for a Patron whose name and whose glory,
At once may illustrate and honour my story.

327. On Glenriddell’s Fox breaking his chain: A Fragment

© Robert Burns

These things premised, I sing a Fox,
Was caught among his native rocks,
And to a dirty kennel chained,
How he his liberty regained.

307. Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson

© Robert Burns

Go to your sculptur’d tombs, ye Great,
In a’ the tinsel trash o’ state!
But by thy honest turf I’ll wait,
Thou man of worth!
And weep the ae best fellow’s fate
E’er lay in earth.

189. Verses on Castle Gordon

© Robert Burns

STREAMS that glide in orient plains,
Never bound by Winter’s chains;
Glowing here on golden sands,
There immix’d with foulest stains

387. Epigram on Miss Fontenelle

© Robert Burns

SWEET naïveté of feature,
Simple, wild, enchanting elf,
Not to thee, but thanks to Nature,
Thou art acting but thyself.

Orlando Furioso Canto 20

© Ludovico Ariosto

ARGUMENT

Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,

185. The Humble Petition of Bruar Water

© Robert Burns

MY lord, I know your noble ear
Woe ne’er assails in vain;
Embolden’d thus, I beg you’ll hear
Your humble slave complain,

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