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Poems begining by &

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157. Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh

© Robert Burns

WHEN, by a generous Public’s kind acclaim,
That dearest meed is granted—honest fame;
Waen here your favour is the actor’s lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;

57. Holy Willie’s Prayer

© Robert Burns

But, L—d, remember me an’ mine
Wi’ mercies temp’ral an’ divine,
That I for grace an’ gear may shine,
Excell’d by nane,
And a’ the glory shall be thine,
Amen, Amen!

407. Epigram—Thanks for a National Victory

© Robert Burns

YE hypocrites! are these your pranks?
To murder men and give God thanks!
Desist, for shame!—proceed no further;
God won’t accept your thanks for MURTHER

439. Song—My Spouse Nancy

© Robert Burns

“HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, Sir;
Tho’ I am your wedded wife
Yet I am not your slave, Sir.”

240. Verses on a Parting Kiss

© Robert Burns

HUMID seal of soft affections,
Tenderest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connections,
Love’s first snowdrop, virgin kiss!

294. Song—To Mary in Heaven

© Robert Burns

THOU ling’ring star, with lessening ray,
That lov’st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher’st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.

145. Song—Yon Wild Mossy Mountains

© Robert Burns

YON wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,
That nurse in their bosom the youth o’ the Clyde,
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro’ the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed.

480. Epigram on an Innkeeper (“The Marquis”)

© Robert Burns

HERE lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm’d,
If ever he rise, it will be to be damn’d.

528. Song—On Chloris being ill

© Robert Burns

Chorus—Long, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow
While my soul’s delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.

201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787

© Robert Burns

AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams,
Whom kingdoms on this day should hail;
An inmate in the casual shed,
On transient pity’s bounty fed,

165. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

© Robert Burns

CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railing,
Lovely Burns has charms—confess:
True it is, she had one failing,
Had a woman ever less?

203. Sylvander to Clarinda

© Robert Burns

WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless fair,
First struck Sylvander’s raptur’d view,
He gaz’d, he listened to despair,
Alas! ’twas all he dared to do.

477. Epigram on Dr. Babington’s looks

© Robert Burns

THAT there is a falsehood in his looks,
I must and will deny:
They tell their Master is a knave,
And sure they do not lie.

319. Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn

© Robert Burns

THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills,
By fits the sun’s departing beam
Look’d on the fading yellow woods,
That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream:

270. Song—The Captain’s Lady

© Robert Burns

Chorus.—O mount and go, mount and make you ready,
O mount and go, and be the Captain’s lady.

205. Song—Go on, Sweet Bird, and Soothe my Care

© Robert Burns

FOR thee is laughing Nature gay,
For thee she pours the vernal day;
For me in vain is Nature drest,
While Joy’s a stranger to my breast.

61. Second Epistle to J. Lapraik

© Robert Burns

Then may Lapraik and Burns arise,
To reach their native, kindred skies,
And sing their pleasures, hopes an’ joys,
In some mild sphere;
Still closer knit in friendship’s ties,
Each passing year!

3. Song—I dream’d I lay

© Robert Burns

I DREAM’D I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List’ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:

403. The Soldier’s Return: A Ballad

© Robert Burns

WHEN wild war’s deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle peace returning,
Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning;

224. Epistle to Hugh Parker

© Robert Burns

IN this strange land, this uncouth clime,
A land unknown to prose or rhyme;
Where words ne’er cross’t the Muse’s heckles,
Nor limpit in poetic shackles:

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