Trust poems
/ page 78 of 157 /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.
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.
443. SongWilt 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,
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!
515. SongO 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.
231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
© Robert Burns
WHEN Nature her great master-piece designd,
And framd her last, best work, the human mind,
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She formd of various parts the various Man.
86. The Auld Farmers New-Year-Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare, Maggie
© Robert Burns
Weve worn to crazy years thegither;
Well toyte about wi ane anither;
Wi tentie care Ill flit thy tether
To some haind rig,
Whare ye may nobly rax your leather,
Wi sma fatigue.
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.
520. Ballad on Mr. Herons ElectionNo. 3
© Robert Burns
TWAS in the seventeen hunder year
O grace, and ninety-five,
That year I was the waeest man
Of ony man alive.
519. Ballad on Mr. Herons ElectionNo. 2
© Robert Burns
FY, let us a to Kirkcudbright,
For there will be bickerin there;
For Murrays light horse are to muster,
And O how the heroes will swear!
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.
111. Address to Beelzebub
© Robert Burns
LONG life, my Lord, an health be yours,
Unskaithed by hungerd Highland boors;
Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,
Wi dirk, claymore, and rusty trigger,
55. The Twa Herds; or, The Holy Tulyie
© Robert Burns
Then Shaws an Drymples eloquence,
MGills close nervous excellence
MQuhaes pathetic manly sense,
An guid MMath,
Wi Smith, wha thro the heart can glance,
May a pack aff.
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 hes done yet,
But onlyhes no just begun yet.
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 eer tread clay;
And gratefully, my gude auld cockie,
Im yours for aye.ROBERT BURNS.
300. Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland
© Robert Burns
WHAT needs this din about the town o Lonon,
How this new play an that new sang is comin?
Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?
Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported?
371. SongLady Mary Ann
© Robert Burns
O LADY Mary Ann looks oer the Castle wa,
She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba,
The youngest he was the flower amang them a,
My bonie laddies young, but hes growin yet.
297. Election Ballad for Westerha
© Robert Burns
THE LADDIES by the banks o Nith
Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a, Jamie;
But hell sair them, as he saird the King
Turn tail and rin awa, Jamie.