Trust poems

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227. Verses on Friars’ Carse Hermitage (First Version)

© Robert Burns

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

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Abd-El-Kader At Toulon Or, The Caged Hawk

© William Makepeace Thackeray

No more, thou lithe and long-winged hawk, of desert-life for thee;
No more across the sultry sands shalt thou go swooping free:
Blunt idle talons, idle beak, with spurning of thy chain,
Shatter against thy cage the wing thou ne'er may'st spread again.

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443. Song—Wilt thou be my Dearie

© Robert Burns

WILT thou be my Dearie?
When Sorrow wring thy gentle heart,
O wilt thou let me cheer thee!
By the treasure of my soul,

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247. Ode, Sacred to the Memory of Mrs. Oswald of Auchencruive

© Robert Burns

EPODE And are they of no more avail,
Ten thousand glittering pounds a-year?
In other worlds can Mammon fail,
Omnipotent as he is here!

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515. Song—O let me in this ae night

© Robert Burns

O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
For Love has bound me hand an’ fit,
And I would fain be in, jo.

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231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry

© Robert Burns

WHEN Nature her great master-piece design’d,
And fram’d her last, best work, the human mind,
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She form’d of various parts the various Man.

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86. The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare, Maggie

© Robert Burns

We’ve worn to crazy years thegither;
We’ll toyte about wi’ ane anither;
Wi’ tentie care I’ll flit thy tether
To some hain’d rig,
Whare ye may nobly rax your leather,
Wi’ sma’ fatigue.

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We Must Believe

© James Whitcomb Riley

_"Lord, I believe: help Thou mine unbelief."_


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The Beauteous Terrorist

© Sir Henry Parkes

Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.

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520. Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 3

© Robert Burns

’TWAS in the seventeen hunder year
O’ grace, and ninety-five,
That year I was the wae’est man
Of ony man alive.

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519. Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 2

© Robert Burns

FY, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright,
For there will be bickerin’ there;
For Murray’s light horse are to muster,
And O how the heroes will swear!

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The Song Of The Negro Boatmen

© Anonymous

So sing our dusky gondoliers;
  And with a secret pain,
And smiles that seem akin to tears,
  We hear the wild refrain.

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Orlando Furioso Canto 20

© Ludovico Ariosto

ARGUMENT

Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,

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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,

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55. The Twa Herds; or, The Holy Tulyie

© Robert Burns

Then Shaw’s an’ D’rymple’s eloquence,
M’Gill’s close nervous excellence
M’Quhae’s pathetic manly sense,
An’ guid M’Math,
Wi’ Smith, wha thro’ the heart can glance,
May a’ pack aff.

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113. A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.

© Robert Burns

The Poet, some guid angel help him,
Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him!
He may do weel for a’ he’s done yet,
But only—he’s no just begun yet.

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295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock

© Robert Burns

My compliments to sister Beckie,
And eke the same to honest Lucky;
I wat she is a daintie chuckie,
As e’er tread clay;
And gratefully, my gude auld cockie,
I’m yours for aye.ROBERT BURNS.

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300. Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland

© Robert Burns

WHAT needs this din about the town o’ Lon’on,
How this new play an’ that new sang is comin?
Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?
Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported?

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371. Song—Lady Mary Ann

© Robert Burns

O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the Castle wa’,
She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’,
The youngest he was the flower amang them a’,
My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s growin’ yet.

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297. Election Ballad for Westerha’

© Robert Burns

THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith
Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie;
But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King—
Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie.