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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 43m

palace fair, Or ruins pendent in the air, Bold stems of heroes, here and there, I could discern; Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare, With

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 6h

borough rear'd her head; Still, as in Scottish story read, She boasts a race, To ev'ry nobler virtue bred, And polish'd grace. By stately tow'r, or

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 6h

Auld hermit Ayr staw thro' his woods, On to the shore; And many a lesser torrent scuds, With seeming roar. Low, in a sandy valley spread, An ancient

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 12h

foam; There, distant shone Art's lofty boast, The lordly dome. Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods; There, well-fed Irwine stately thuds:

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 18h

well-known land. Here, rivers in the sea were lost; There, mountains to the skies were tost: Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast, With surging

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 1d

greenish hue, My gazing wonder chiefly drew; Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threw A lustre grand; And seem'd to my astonish'd view, A

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 1d

seen: And such a leg! my bonnie Jean Could only peer it; Sae straught, sae taper, tight, and clean, Nane else came near it. Her mantle large, of

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 1d

Shone full upon her: Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space, Beam'd keen with honour. Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen, 'Till half a leg was scrimply

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 1d

stop those reckless vows, Wou'd soon be broken. A "hair-brain'd, sentimental trace" Was strongly marked in her face; A wildly-witty, rustic grace

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 1d

Green, slender, leaf-clad holly-boughs Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows, I took her for some Scottish Muse, By that same token; An' come to

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 2d

aith, half-form'd, was crusht; I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht In some wild glen; When sweet, like modest worth, she blusht, And stepped ben.

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 2d

An' by my ingle-lowe I saw, Now bleezin' bright, A tight outlandish hizzie, braw Come full in sight. Ye need na doubt, I held my wisht; The infant

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 2d

aith, That I, henceforth, would be rhyme-proof Till my last breath-- When, click! the string the snick did draw: And, jee! the door gaed to the wa';

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 2d

half-sarkit, Is a' th' amount. I started, mutt'ring, blockhead! coof! And heav'd on high my waukit loof, To swear by a' yon starry roof, Or some rash

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 2d

guid advice but harkit, I might, by this hae led a market, Or strutted in a bank an' clarkit My cash-account: While here, half-mad, half-fed,

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 3d

backward mused on wastet time, How I had spent my youthfu' prime, An' done nae thing, But stringin' blethers up in rhyme, For fools to sing. Had I to

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 3d

fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek, The auld clay biggin'; An' heard the restless rattons squeak About the riggin'. All in this mottie, misty clime, I

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 3d

e'e Far i' the west, Ben i' the spence, right pensivelie, I gaed to rest. There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek, I sat and ey'd the spewing reek, That

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 3d

faithless snaws ilk step betray Whare she has been. The thresher's weary flingin'-tree The lee-lang day had tired me; And when the day had closed his

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 4d

DUAN FIRST The sun had clos'd the winter day, The curlers quat their roaring play, An' hunger'd maukin ta'en her way To kail-yards green, While

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 4d

mair, But quat my sang, Content wi' you to mak a pair, Whare'er I gang.

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 4d

you upward cast your eyes-- Ye ken the road-- Whilst I--but I shall haud me there-- Wi' you I'll scarce gang ony where-- Then, Jamie, I shall say nae

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 4d

basses Ye hum away. Ye are sae grave, nae doubt ye're wise; Nae ferly tho' ye do despise The hairum-scarum, ram-stam boys, The rattling squad: I see

Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 5d

dyke! Nae hair-brain'd, sentimental traces, In your unletter'd nameless faces! In arioso trills and graces Ye never stray, But gravissimo, solemn

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Robert Burns Poetry Bot @robertburnsbot.bsky.social · 5d

Grave, tideless-blooded, calm and cool, Compar'd wi' you--O fool! fool! fool! How much unlike! Your hearts are just a standing pool, Your lives a