Bonnie Jean / Robert Burns

"Thy _handsome_ foot thou shalt na set

In barn or byre to trouble thee."]

I.

There was a lass, and she was fair,

At kirk and market to be seen,

When a' the fairest maids were met,

The fairest maid was bonnie Jean.

Blythe Hae I Been / Robert Burns

I.

Blythe hae I been on yon hill

As the lambs before me;

Careless ilka thought and free

As the breeze flew o'er me.

Now nae langer sport and play,

Mirth or sang can please me;

Lesley is sae fair and coy,

Care and anguish seize me.

Blithe Was She / Robert Burns

CHORUS.

Blithe, blithe and merry was she,

Blithe was she but and ben:

Blithe by the banks of Ern,

And blithe in Glenturit glen.

Bess and Her Spinning Wheel / Robert Burns

I.

O leeze me on my spinning-wheel,

O leeze me on the rock and reel;

Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,

And haps me fiel and warm at e'en!

I'll set me down and sing and spin,

While laigh descends the simmer sun,

Blest wi' content, and milk and meal--

O leeze me on my spinning-wheel!

Bannockburn / Robert Burns

I.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,

Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;

Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to victorie!

Banks Of Doon / Robert Burns

I.

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fair;

How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae fu' o' care!

Awa Whigs, Awa / Robert Burns

CHORUS.

Awa Whigs, awa!

Awa Whigs, awa!

Ye're but a pack o' traitor louns,

Ye'll do nae good at a'.

Auld Lang Syne / Robert Burns

I.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to min'?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o' lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne!

As I Was A-Wand'ring / Robert Burns

I.

As I was a-wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',

The pipers and youngsters were making their game;

Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,

Which bled a' the wound o' my dolour again.

Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him;

I may be distress'd, but I winna complain;

I flatter my fancy I may get anither,

My heart it shall never be broken for ane.

Anna With the Gowden Locks / Robert Burns

I.

Yestreen I had a pint o' wine,

A place where body saw na';

Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine

The gowden locks of Anna.

The hungry Jew in wilderness

Rejoicing o'er his manna,

Was naething to my hinny bliss

Upon the lips of Anna.

Addressed to Mr. Mitchell / Robert Burns

Friend of the Poet, tried and leal,

Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;

Alake, alake, the meikle deil

Wi' a' his witches

Are at it, skelpin' jig and reel,

In my poor pouches!

Address to the Wood Lark / Robert Burns

I.

O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay!

Nor quit for me the trembling spray;

A hapless lover courts thy lay,

Thy soothing fond complaining.

Address to the Toothache / Robert Burns

My curse upon thy venom'd stang,

That shoots my tortur'd gums alang;

And thro' my lugs gies mony a twang,

Wi' gnawing vengeance;

Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,

Like racking engines!

Address to the Shade of Thomsen / Robert Burns

"While cold-eyed Spring, a virgin coy,

Unfolds her verdant mantle sweet,

Or pranks the sod in frolic joy,

A carpet for her youthful feet:

"While Summer, with a matron's grace,

Walks stately in the cooling shade,

And oft delighted loves to trace

The progress of the spiky blade:

Address to the Deil / Robert Burns

"O Prince! O Chief of many throned Pow'rs,

That led th' embattled Seraphim to war."--Milton

O thou! whatever title suit thee,

Auld Hornie, Satan, Kick, or Clootie,

Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie,

Closed under hatches,

Spairges about the brunstane cootie,

To scaud poor wretches!

Address to Edinburgh / Robert Burns

I.

Edina! Scotia's darling seat!

All hail thy palaces and tow'rs,

Where once beneath a monarch's feet

Sat Legislation's sov'reign pow'rs!

From marking wildly-scatter'd flow'rs,

As on the banks of Ayr I stray'd,

And singing, lone, the ling'ring hours,

I shelter in thy honour'd shade.

Address to an Illegitimate Child / Robert Burns

Thou's welcome, wean, mischanter fa' me,

If ought of thee, or of thy mammy,

Shall ever daunton me, or awe me,

My sweet wee lady,

Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me

Tit-ta or daddy.

Address of Beelzebub / Robert Burns

Long life, my Lord, an' health be yours,

Unskaith'd by hunger'd Highland boors;

Lord grant mae duddie desperate beggar,

Wi' dirk, claymore, or rusty trigger,

May twin auld Scotland o' a life

She likes--as lambkins like a knife.

A Winter Night / Robert Burns

"Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are

That bide the pelting of the pitiless storm!

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,

Your looped and widow'd raggedness defend you

From seasons such as these?"--Shakespeare

A Vision / Robert Burns

As I stood by yon roofless tower,

Where the wa'-flower scents the dewy air,

Where th' howlet mourns in her ivy bower

And tells the midnight moon her care;

The winds were laid, the air was still,

The Stars they shot along the sky;

The fox was howling on the hill,

And the distant echoing glens reply.