Get Your Premium Membership

385. Song—Auld Rob Morris

 THERE’S Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
He’s the King o’ gude fellows, and wale o’ auld men;
He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine,
And ae bonie lass, his dautie and mine.
She’s fresh as the morning, the fairest in May; She’s sweet as the ev’ning amang the new hay; As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea, And dear to my heart as the light to my e’e.
But oh! she’s an Heiress, auld Robin’s a laird, And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard; A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed, The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead.
The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane; The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane; I wander my lane like a night-troubled ghaist, And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast.
O had she but been of a lower degree, I then might hae hop’d she wad smil’d upon me! O how past descriving had then been my bliss, As now my distraction nae words can express.

Poem by Robert Burns
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - 385. Song—Auld Rob MorrisEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

More Poems by Robert Burns

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on 385. Song—Auld Rob Morris

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 385. Song—Auld Rob Morris here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.