A Bard’s Epitaph
A Bottle And Friend (song)
A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
Address To A Haggis
Address to the Deil
Address to the Toothache
Address to the Unco Guid
A Dream
A Fiddler in the North
Ae Fond Kiss
Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear
A Man’s a Man for a’ that
Anna, thy Charms
A Poet’s Welcome to his Love-Begotten Daughter
A red, red Rose
Auld Lang Syne
Auld Rob Morris
A Winter Night
Bonie Dundee: A Fragment
Bonie Jean: A Ballad
Bonie Peggy Alison
Ca’ the Yowes to the Knowes
Craigieburn Wood
Caledonia: A Ballad
Death and Dr. Hornbook
Despondency: An Ode
Duncan Gray
Epistle on J. Lapraik
Epitaph on Holy Willie
Farewell thou stream that winding flows
Farewell to the Banks of Ayr
Farewell to the Highlands
Green Grow the Rashes
Halloween
Handsome Nell
Highland Mary
Here’s to thy health, my bonie lass
Holy Willie’s Prayer
I do confess thou art sae fair
I dream’d I lay
John Anderson, My Jo
John Barleycorn: A Ballad
Kissing my Katie
Lady Mary Ann
Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots
Lines to an Old Sweetheart
Love in the Guise of Friendship
Lines on the Fall of Fyers
Mary Morison
Montgomerie’s Peggy
My Bonie Mary
My Highland Lassie, O
My Nanie, O!
Now Spring has clad the grove in green
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day
O were my love you lilac fair
O that’s the lassie o’ my heart
Rantin, Rovin Robin
Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn
Scotch Drink
Sweet Afton
Tam o’ Shanter: A Tale
The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare, Maggie
The Banks o’ Doon
The Battle of Sherramuir
The Birks of Aberfeldy
The Bonie Wee Thing
The Holy Fair
The First Six Verses of the Ninetieth Psalm versified
The Lass of Cessnock Banks
The lass that made the bed to me
To a Mouse
To a Louse
To a Mountain Daisy
The Wounded Hare
Tragic Fragment—All villain as I am
Up in the Morning Early
Winter: A Dirge
Yon Wild Mossy Mountains
Robert Burns Poetry And SongsMy Highland Lassie, OTune—“The deuks dang o’er my daddy”
NAE gentle dames, tho’ e’er sae fair,
Chorus.—Within the glen sae bushy, O,
O were yon hills and vallies mine,
But fickle fortune frowns on me,
Altho’ thro’ foreign climes I range,
For her I’ll dare the billow’s roar,
She has my heart, she has my hand,
Farewell the glen sae bushy, O! Robert Burns
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