Robert Burns Scottish Icon

Robert Burns is a Scottish icon. Robert Burns was born near Ayr, Scotland, 25th of January, 1759. Burns Supper, January 25th. The life of Scotland’s greatest poet has been celebrated in Scotland for more than two hundred years. It is thought that the first Burns Supper was held by friends of Robert Burns not long after he died, to recognise his birthday and pay tribute to his achievements. Burns Suppers can be either formal or casual affairs and can involve any number of people, from a small group of friends to a gathering of more than one hundred people. The basic format varies little, the pomp and ceremony. Andy M. Stewart is a wonderful Scottish singer and songwriter. Enjoy the video above as Andy sings My Love Is Like A Red Red Rose.

My Love Is Like A Red Red Rose

Oh, my love is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June
Oh, my love is like a melody
That's sweetly played in tune
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry.
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry.

'Til all the seas gang dry my, my dear
And the rocks melt with the sun
And I will love thee still, my dear
While the sands of life shall run
But fare thee well, my only love
Oh, fare thee well a while
And I will come again, my love
Tho' 't were ten thousand mile
Tho' 't were ten thousand mile, my love
Tho' 't were ten thousand mile
And I will come again, my love
Tho' 't were ten thousand mile.

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

A Scottish Pub in the days of Robert Burns

A Scottish Pub in the days of Robert Burns.

Robert Burns and Euphemia Murray

Robert Burns and Euphemia Murray. A cousin of Sir William of Ochtertyre, Euphemia Murray was known as The Flower of Strathmore. She was eighteen when Burns stayed with Sir William in 1787, and wrote the song 'Blythe, blythe and merry was she'. Of the song, he recalled: 'I composed these verses while I stayed at Ochtertyre with Sir William Murray. The lady, who was also at Ochtertyre at the same time, was a well-known toast, Miss Euphemia Murray of Lintrose...' The lady. according to tradition, did not appreciate the honour done her by Burns, though one who knew her said that the concluding verse was very expressive of her appearance and style of beauty.

By Auchtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass,
Than braes of Yarrow ever saw.

Chorus.
Blithe, blithe and merry was she,
Blithe was she but and ben:
Blithe by the banks of Ern,
And blithe in Glenturit glen.

Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
Her smile was like a simmer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Ern,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.

Chorus.

Her bonnie face it was as meek,
As any lamb upon a lea;
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.

Chorus.

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been;
But Phemie was the blithest lass,
That ever trod the dewy green.

Blithe, blithe and merry was she,
Blithe was she but and ben:
Blithe by the banks of Ern.
And blithe in Glenturit glen.

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns and George Lawrie

Robert Burns and George Lawrie. Rev Dr George Lawrie (1727 — 99)

Son of a Kirkmichael minister, George Lawrie was educated at Edinburgh University and ordained at Loudoun, near Galston in 1763. He remained there all his life. The following year, he married Mary Campbell, daughter of Archibald Campbell, Professor of Divinity at St Andrews University. Lawrie`s eldest daughter, Christina was something of a musician. Lawrie`s son, Archibald, born in 1768, married Dr Adair`s sister Anne. In 1791, Glasgow University gave Lawrie a Doctorate of Divinity. Lawrie occupies a place of importance in the story of Robert Burns because in 1786, impressed with the worth of Burns’ poems in the Kilmarnock Edition, he sent a copy to Dr Blacklock, then a figure of some influence in polite Edinburgh`s society. On 4th September, Blacklock wrote enthusiastically to Lawrie, and expressed high praise for Burns`s work. Lawrie showed Blacklock`s letter to Gavin Hamilton, who in turn showed it to Burns. In the Autobiographical Letter to Dr Moore, Burns said: “I had taken the last farewel of my friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had composed my last song I should ever measure in Caledonia, “The gloomy night is gathering fast", when a letter from Dr Blacklock to a friend of mine overthrew all my schemes by rousing my poetic ambition.”

There were probably deeper reasons why Burns finally decided that he need not flee the country, but the importance of Lawrie`s interest in promoting the poet`s reputation should not be minimised. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns House Dumfries Scotland

Robert Burns House Dumfries Scotland. The house in which Robert Burns died in 1796. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Scottish Courting

Of a the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There wild woods grow, and rivers row
and monie a hill between;
but day and night my fancy's flight
is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bonie flower that springs
by fountain, shaw, or green;
there's not a bonie bird that sings,
but minds me o my Jean.

By Robert Burns. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns Scottish Legend

Robert Burns Scottish Legend. Born in Alloway, Ayrshire, in 1759 to William Burness, a poor tenant farmer, and Agnes Broun, Robert Burns was the eldest of seven. He spent his youth working his father's farm, but in spite of his poverty he was extremely well read, at the insistence of his father, who employed a tutor for Robert and younger brother Gilbert. At 15 Robert was the principal worker on the farm and this prompted him to start writing in an attempt to find some kind of counterpoise for his circumstances. It was at this tender age that Burns penned his first verse, "My Handsome Nell", which was an ode to the other subjects that dominated his life, namely scotch and women.

When his father died in 1784, Robert and his brother became partners in the farm. However, Robert was more interested in the romantic nature of poetry than the arduous graft of ploughing and, having had some misadventures with the ladies, resulting in several illegitimate children, including twins to the woman who would become his wife, Jean Armour, he planned to escape to the safer, sunnier climes of the West Indies.

However, at the point of abandoning farming, his first collection; Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, Kilmarnock Edition, which was a set of poems essentially based on a broken love affair, was published and received much critical acclaim. This, together with pride of parenthood, made him stay in Scotland. He moved around the country, eventually arriving in Edinburgh, where he mingled in the illustrious circles of the artists and writers who were agog at the Ploughman Poet.

In a matter of weeks he was transformed from local hero to a national celebrity, fussed over by the Edinburgh literati of the day, and Jean Armour's father allowed her to marry him, now that he was no longer a lowly wordsmith. Alas, the trappings of fame did not bring fortune and he took up a job as an exciseman to supplement the meagre income. Whilst collecting taxes he continued to write, contributing songs to the likes of James Johnston's "Scot's Musical Museum" and George Thomson's "Select Collection of Original Scottish Airs." In all, more than 400 of Burns' songs are still in existence.

The last years of Burns' life were devoted to penning great poetic masterpieces such as The Lea Rig, Tam O'Shanter and a Red, Red Rose. He died aged 37 of heart disease exacerbated by the hard manual work he undertook when he was young. His death occurred on the same day as his wife Jean gave birth to his last son, Maxwell.

On the day of his burial more than ten thousand people came to watch and pay their respects. However, his popularity then was nothing compared to the heights it has reached since.

On the anniversary of his birth, Scots both at home and abroad celebrate Robert Burns with a supper, where they address the haggis, the ladies and whisky. A celebration which would undoubtedly make him proud. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns and Lochlea Farm

Robert Burns and Lochlea Farm. Robert Burns worked on many rented farms in Ayrshire, including Lochlea where his father died in 1784. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

John Syme and Robert Burns

John Syme wrote of his friend Robert Burns: "The poet's expression varied perpetually, according to the idea that predominated in his mind: and it was beautiful to mark how well the play of his lips indicated the sentiment he was about to utter. His eyes and lips, the first remarkable for fire, and the second for flexibility, formed at all times an index to his mind, and as sunshine or shade predominated, you might have told, a priori, whether the company was to be favoured with a scintillation of wit, or a sentiment of benevolence, or a burst of fiery indignation. I cordially concur with what Sir Walter Scott says of the poet's eyes. In his animated moments, and particularly when his anger was aroused by instances of meanness, or tyranny, they were actually like coals of living fire."

Angel To Robert Burns

Jessie Lewars was the last of the fair sex to be immortalised by Robert Burns. This young lady was the sister of John Lewars, the poet's friend and fellow exciseman at Dumfries. During the poet's brief and fatal illness, Jessie Lewars acted the part of a ministering angel in the Burns' household and Burns seemed to imagine himself as the lover of his wife's kind-hearted young friend. The tender and beautiful lyric of "O wert thou in the cauld blast" was one of various tributes to young Jessie. According to the lady's own statement, Burns called upon her one morning and said if she would play him any favourite air for which she might wish new words, he would endeavour to produce something that should please her. She sat down to the piano, and played the air of the old ditty, already familiar to him by his wife's singing and, after a few minutes' abstraction, he produced the song - "O wert thou in the cauld blast". The last four lines of this song must surely be the finest words of love ever written:

Or were I Monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my Queen, wad be my Queen.

Jessie Lewars became a Mrs. Thomson and died in 1855. Her remains, appropriately, lie quite close to the poet's Mausoleum in St. Michael's Kirkyaird, Dumfries.

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns Stirling Scotland

Robert Burns, Stirling, Scotland. Robert Burns paid his first visit to Stirling on his way to Inverness. He arrived on the evening of Sunday, 26th August 1787. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns and Rural Scotland

Robert Burns was born into a farming family at Alloway in Ayrshire in 1759. He died in Dumfries at the early age of 37. His great popularity with the Scots lies in his ability to depict with loving accuracy the life of his fellow rural Scots, as he did in many of his poems. His use of dialect brought a stimulating, much needed freshness and raciness into English poetry, but the greatness of Robert Burns extends beyond the limits of dialect. His poems are written about Scots, but, in tune with the rising humanitarianism of his day, they apply to a multitude of universal problems.

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns Meets Nobility

The second son of the fourth Earl of Selkirk. While attending Edinburgh University, Lord Daer lived with Professor Dugald Stewart, with whom he also stayed at the Professor's country home, Catrine, in Ayrshire. It was here that Robert Burns met him when he dined with Stewart on 23rd October 1786, the meeting being the poet's first with a member of the nobility. But Lord Daer was liberal minded. Later, through having friends in France who were concerned in the Revolution, Lord Daer became a warm admirer of it, and was a member of The Friends of the People and an advocate of Parliamentary reform. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns Wanderer of the Wood and Field

The Wounded Hare.

Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art,
And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye;
May never pity soothe thee with a sigh,
Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart!

Go live, poor wand'rer of the wood and field!
The bitter little that of life remains:
No more the thickening brakes and verdant plains
To thee a home, or food, or pastime yield.

Seek, mangled wretch, some place of wonted rest,
No more of rest, but now thy dying bed!
The sheltering rushes whistling o'er thy head,
The cold earth with thy bloody bosom prest.

Perhaps a mother's anguish adds its woe;
The playful pair crowd fondly by thy side;
Ah! helpless nurslings, who will now provide
That life a mother only can bestow!

Oft as by winding Nith I, musing, wait
The sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn,
I'll miss thee sporting o'er the dewy lawn,
And curse the ruffian's aim, and mourn thy hapless fate.

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns Peck of Malt

O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allen cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna found in Christendie.

Chorus.-We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!
We are na fou,

It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee!
We are na fou,

Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',
He is the King amang us three.
We are na fou.

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Robert Burns Dinsome Clamour

Nae mercy then, for airn or steel;
The brawnie, banie, ploughman chiel,
Brings hard owrehip, wi’ sturdy wheel,
The strong forehammer,
Till block an’ studdie ring an reel,
Wi’ dinsome clamour.

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Robert Burns To A Mouse

Robert Burns To A Mouse.

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Robert Burns The Soldier’s Return

Robert Burns The Soldier’s Return.

When wild war’s deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle peace returning,
Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning;
I left the lines and tented field,
Where lang I’d been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a’ my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger.

A leal, light heart was in my breast,
My hand unstain’d wi’ plunder;
And for fair Scotia hame again,
I cheery on did wander:
I thought upon the banks o’ Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon the witching smile
That caught my youthful fancy.

At length I reach’d the bonie glen,
Where early life I sported;
I pass’d the mill and trysting thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted:
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother’s dwelling!
And turn’d me round to hide the flood
That in my een was swelling.

Wi’ alter’d voice, quoth I, “Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn’s blossom,
O! happy, happy may he be,
That’s dearest to thy bosom:
My purse is light, I’ve far to gang,
And fain would be thy lodger;
I’ve serv’d my king and country lang-
Take pity on a sodger.”

Sae wistfully she gaz’d on me,
And lovelier was than ever;
Quo’ she, “A sodger ance I lo’ed,
Forget him shall I never:
Our humble cot, and hamely fare,
Ye freely shall partake it;
That gallant badge-the dear cockade,
Ye’re welcome for the sake o’t.”

She gaz’d-she redden’d like a rose -
Syne pale like only lily;
She sank within my arms, and cried,
“Art thou my ain dear Willie?”
“By him who made yon sun and sky!
By whom true love’s regarded,
I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded.

“The wars are o’er, and I’m come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho’ poor in gear, we’re rich in love,
And mair we’se ne’er be parted.”
Quo’ she, “My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenish’d fairly;
And come, my faithfu’ sodger lad,
Thou’rt welcome to it dearly!”

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodger’s prize,
The sodgerpppp’s wealth is honor:
The brave poor sodger ne’er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he’s his country’s stay,
In day and hour of danger.

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Robert Burns Address To Toothache

Robert Burns Address To Toothache.

My curse upon your venom'd stang,
That shoots my tortur'd gums alang,
An' thro' my lug gies mony a twang,
Wi' gnawing vengeance,
Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,
Like racking engines!

When fevers burn, or argues freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or colics squeezes,
Our neibor's sympathy can ease us,
Wi' pitying moan;
But thee-thou hell o' a' diseases-
Aye mocks our groan.

Adown my beard the slavers trickle
I throw the wee stools o'er the mickle,
While round the fire the giglets keckle,
To see me loup,
While, raving mad, I wish a heckle
Were in their doup!

In a' the numerous human dools,
Ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty stools,
Or worthy frien's rak'd i' the mools, -
Sad sight to see!
The tricks o' knaves, or fash o'fools,
Thou bear'st the gree!

Where'er that place be priests ca' hell,
Where a' the tones o' misery yell,
An' ranked plagues their numbers tell,
In dreadfu' raw,
Thou, Toothache, surely bear'st the bell,
Amang them a'!

O thou grim, mischief-making chiel,
That gars the notes o' discord squeel,
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel
In gore, a shoe-thick,
Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal
A townmond's toothache!

Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.

Auld Lang Syne The Story of Robert Burns

Auld Lang Syne The Story of Robert Burns. A wonderful introduction for any age to the world of Robert Burns and the history of Scotland. It gives one a deeper appreciation for the man and his works. Auld Lang Syne: The Story of Robert Burns. Biography of Robert Burns. Burns Supper. Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Songs. Free Robert Burns Books. Robert Burns Tours of Scotland.