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Burns was born at Alloway, near Ayr in a cottage built by his father. It was 1759 when the 'bard' of Scotland was brought into the world. He was born into a poor family and learnt purely at home. He only had very brief visits to schools where he would learn as much as possible. When his father died his brother, Gilbert, invested in a small farm. This seemed no more successful than any other of the families farms. At that time Burns fell in love with Jean Armour, the daughter of a Master Mason. Due to a quarrel with the families they seperated and Burns thought himself as free again. In order to make some money he published his first anthology of poems, 'Poems Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect'. This was published in 1786. It was an Immediate success in Edinburgh and Scotland. He later published a second Edinburgh book which brought him 500. In August 1788 Burns married Jean Armour. In 1796 Robert Burns, the Scottish Bard died of endocarditis, following an attack of rheumatism. He left behind many great poems such as, Tom o' Shanter, Red Red Rose, Holy Willie's Prayer, Highland Mary, My heart's in the Highlands, and of course the world famous Auld Lang Syne. Truely a brilliant man. Below are some links to some of his poems. Again, like the Food + Drink section, the poems are all on this page but the page might be too long to scroll down and view them. So I have put links which will go directly to them for you. Thankyou for taking interest in such a man and his work.



John Barleycorn
A Red Red Rose
My heart's in the Highlands
Highland Mary
Auld Lang Syne - Beware of imitations

John Barleycorn

There was three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barelycorn should die.

They took a plough and plough'd him down,
Put clods upon his head,
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.

But the chearful Spring came kindly on,
And show'rs began to fall;
John Barley corn got up again,
And sore surpris'd them all.

The sultry suns of Summer came,
And he grew think and strong,
HIs head well arm'd wi' pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.

The sober Autumn enter'd mild,
When he grew wan a pale;
His bbending joints and drooping head
Show'd he began to fail.

His colour sicken'd more and more,
He faded into age;
And then his enemies began
To show their deadly rage.

They've taen a weapon, long and sharp,
And cut him by the knee;
They ty'd him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgerie.

They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgell'd him full sore;
They hunghim up before the storm,
And turn'd him o'er and o'er.
They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,
They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim,

They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him farther woe,
And still, as signs of life appear'd
They toss'd him to and fro.

They wasted, o're a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones'
But a miller us'd him worst of all,
For he crush'd him between two stones.

And they hae taen his very heart's blood,
And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,
For if you do but taste his blood,
'Twill make your courage rise

A Red Red Rose

O my luve's like a red, red rose, 
That's newly sprung in June;
O myluve's like a melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune. -

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my Dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry, - 

Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will love thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o' life shal run. -

And fare thee weel, my only Luve!
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!

My Heart's in the Highlands

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, Wherever I go. -

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North;
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth:
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. - 

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;
Farewell to the Straths and green vallies below:
Farewell to the forests and wild-hinging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. -

My heart's in the Highlands, my hear is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a chasing th deer:
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go. -


Highland Mary


Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There Simmer first unfald her robes,
And there the largest tarry:
For there I took the last Fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom'd the gay, green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom;
As underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden Hours, on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my Dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi' mony a vow, a lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder:
But Oh, fell Death's untimely frost,
That nipt my Flower sae early!
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips
I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly!
And clos'd for ay, the sparkling glance,
That dwalt on me sae kingly!
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.

Auld Lang Syne


Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquatintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

       CHORUS
For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fitt,
Sin auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld syne.

We wea hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd,
Sin auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet 
For auld syne.