Famous Ane Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Ane poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous ane poems. These examples illustrate what a famous ane poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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221. Song—The Bonie Lad that's Far Awa

by Robert Burns
 O HOW can I be blythe and glad,
 Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I lo’e best
 Is o’er the hills and far awa!


It’s no the frosty winter wind,
 It’s no the driving drift and snaw;
But aye the tear comes in my e’e,
 To think on him that’s far awa.


My father pat me...Read more of this...

John Anderson

by Robert Burns
 John Anderson, my jo John,
When we were first acquent
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo!

John Anderson, my jo John,
We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
But...Read more of this...

131. Song—Willie Chalmers

by Robert Burns
 WI’ braw new branks in mickle pride,
 And eke a braw new brechan,
My Pegasus I’m got astride,
 And up Parnassus pechin;
Whiles owre a bush wi’ donwward crush,
 The doited beastie stammers;
Then up he gets, and off he sets,
 For sake o’ Willie Chalmers.


I doubt na, lass, that weel ken’d name
 May cost a pair o’ blushes;
I am nae stranger...Read more of this...

112. A Dream

by Robert Burns
 GUID-MORNIN’ to our Majesty!
 May Heaven augment your blisses
On ev’ry new birth-day ye see,
 A humble poet wishes.
My bardship here, at your Levee
 On sic a day as this is,
Is sure an uncouth sight to see,
 Amang thae birth-day dresses
 Sae fine this day.


I see ye’re complimented thrang,
 By mony a lord an’ lady;
“God save the King” ’s a...Read more of this...

10. The Ronalds of the Bennals

by Robert Burns
 IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
 And proper young lasses and a’, man;
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,
 They carry the gree frae them a’, man.


Their father’s laird, and weel he can spare’t,
 Braid money to tocher them a’, man;
To proper young men, he’ll clink in the hand
 Gowd guineas a hunder...Read more of this...

86. The Auld Farmer's New-Year-Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare Maggie

by Robert Burns
 A GUID New-year I wish thee, Maggie!
Hae, there’s a ripp to thy auld baggie:
Tho’ thou’s howe-backit now, an’ knaggie,
 I’ve seen the day
Thou could hae gaen like ony staggie,
 Out-owre the lay.


Tho’ now thou’s dowie, stiff, an’ crazy,
An’ thy auld hide as white’s a daisie,
I’ve seen thee dappl’t, sleek an’ glaizie,
 A bonie gray:
He should been tight that daur’t...Read more of this...

271. Song—John Anderson My Jo

by Robert Burns
 JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John,
 When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
 Your bonie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
 Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
 John Anderson, my jo.


John Anderson, my jo, John,
 We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a cantie day, John,
 We’ve had wi’ ane...Read more of this...

514. Song—The Lass o' Ecclefechan

by Robert Burns
 GAT ye me, O gat ye me,
 O gat ye me wi’ naething?
Rock an reel, and spinning wheel,
 A mickle quarter basin:
Bye attour my Gutcher has
 A heich house and a laich ane,
A’ forbye my bonie sel,
 The toss o’ Ecclefechan.


O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
 O haud your tongue and jauner
I held the gate till you I...Read more of this...

7. Ah woe is me my Mother dear

by Robert Burns
 AH, woe is me, my mother dear!
 A man of strife ye’ve born me:
For sair contention I maun bear;
 They hate, revile, and scorn me.


I ne’er could lend on bill or band,
 That five per cent. might blest me;
And borrowing, on the tither hand,
 The deil a ane wad trust me.


Yet I, a coin-deni?d wight,
 By Fortune quite discarded;
Ye...Read more of this...

101. Song—Composed in Spring

by Robert Burns
 AGAIN rejoicing Nature sees
 Her robe assume its vernal hues:
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
 All freshly steep’d in morning dews.


 Chorus.—And maun I still on Menie doat,
 And bear the scorn that’s in her e’e?
 For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like a hawk,
 An’ it winna let a body be.


In vain to me the cowslips...Read more of this...

339. Song—O for ane an' twenty Tam

by Robert Burns
 Chorus.—An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam!
 And hey, sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam!
I’ll learn my kin a rattlin’ sang,
 An’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam.


THEY snool me sair, and haud me down,
 An’ gar me look like bluntie, Tam;
But three short years will soon wheel roun’,
 An’ then comes ane an’ twenty, Tam.
 An’ O for, &c.


A...Read more of this...

42. A Poet's Welcome to his Love-Begotten Daughter

by Robert Burns
 THOU’S 1 welcome, wean; mishanter fa’ me,
If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy mamie,
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
 My bonie lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’ me
 Tyta or daddie.


Tho’ now they ca’ me fornicator,
An’ tease my name in kintry clatter,
The mair they talk, I’m kent the better,
 E’en let them clash;
An auld wife’s tongue’s...Read more of this...

62. Epistle to William Simson

by Robert Burns
 I GAT your letter, winsome Willie;
Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you brawlie;
Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly,
 And unco vain,
Should I believe, my coaxin billie
 Your flatterin strain.


But I’se believe ye kindly meant it:
I sud be laith to think ye hinted
Ironic satire, sidelins sklented
 On my poor Musie;
Tho’ in sic phraisin terms ye’ve penn’d it,
 I scarce...Read more of this...

273. Song—Tam Glen

by Robert Burns
 MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
 Some counsel unto me come len’,
To anger them a’ is a pity,
 But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen?


I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fellow,
 In poortith I might mak a fen;
What care I in riches to wallow,
 If I maunna marry Tam Glen!


There’s Lowrie the Laird o’ Dumeller—
 “Gude day to...Read more of this...

65. Song—Rantin Rovin Robin

by Robert Burns
 THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle,
But whatna day o’ whatna style,
I doubt it’s hardly worth the while
 To be sae nice wi’ Robin.


Chor.—Robin was a rovin’ boy,
 Rantin’, rovin’, rantin’, rovin’,
Robin was a rovin’ boy,
 Rantin’, rovin’, Robin!


Our monarch’s hindmost year but ane
Was five-and-twenty days begun, 2
’Twas then a blast o’ Janwar’ win’
 Blew hansel in...Read more of this...

554. Song—A Health to ane I loe dear

by Robert Burns
 Chorus—Here’s a health to ane I loe dear,
 Here’s a health to ane I loe dear;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
 And soft as their parting tear—Jessy.


ALTHO’ thou maun never be mine,
 Altho’ even hope is denied;
’Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
 Than ought in the world beside—Jessy.
 Here’s a health, &c.


I mourn thro’ the gay,...Read more of this...

To a Mouse

by Robert Burns
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...Read more of this...

113. A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton Esq

by Robert Burns
 EXPECT na, sir, in this narration,
A fleechin, fleth’rin Dedication,
To roose you up, an’ ca’ you guid,
An’ sprung o’ great an’ noble bluid,
Because ye’re surnam’d like His Grace—
Perhaps related to the race:
Then, when I’m tir’d-and sae are ye,
Wi’ mony a fulsome, sinfu’ lie,
Set up a face how I stop short,
For fear your modesty be hurt.


 This may do—maun do, sir,...Read more of this...

280. The Kirk of Scotland's Alarm: A Ballad

by Robert Burns
 ORTHODOX! orthodox, who believe in John Knox,
 Let me sound an alarm to your conscience:
A heretic blast has been blown in the West,
 That what is no sense must be nonsense,
Orthodox! That what is no sense must be nonsense.


Doctor Mac! Doctor Mac, you should streek on a rack,
 To strike evil-doers wi’ terror:
To join Faith and Sense, upon any...Read more of this...

69. Third Epistle to J. Lapraik

by Robert Burns
 GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie,
Guid health, hale han’s, an’ weather bonie;
Now, when ye’re nickin down fu’ cannie
 The staff o’ bread,
May ye ne’er want a stoup o’ bran’y
 To clear your head.


May Boreas never thresh your rigs,
Nor kick your rickles aff their legs,
Sendin the stuff o’er muirs an’ haggs
 Like drivin wrack;
But may the tapmost grain that...Read more of this...

Tam OShanter

by Robert Burns
 A Tale

"Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke."
 —Gawin Douglas.

When chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
An' folk begin to tak' the gate;
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An' getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles,
That lie between us and our...Read more of this...

518. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election—No. 1

by Robert Burns
 WHOM will you send to London town,
 To Parliament and a’ that?
Or wha in a’ the country round
 The best deserves to fa’ that?
 For a’ that, and a’ that,
 Thro’ Galloway and a’ that,
 Where is the Laird or belted Knight
 The best deserves to fa’ that?


Wha sees Kerroughtree’s open yett,
 (And wha is’t never saw that?)
Wha ever...Read more of this...

68. The Holy Fair

by Robert Burns
 UPON 1 a simmer Sunday morn
 When Nature’s face is fair,
I walked forth to view the corn,
 An’ snuff the caller air.
The rising sun owre Galston muirs
 Wi’ glorious light was glintin;
The hares were hirplin down the furrs,
 The lav’rocks they were chantin
 Fu’ sweet that day.


As lightsomely I glowr’d abroad,
 To see a scene sae gay,
Three hizzies, early...Read more of this...

519. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election—No. 2

by Robert Burns
 FY, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright,
 For there will be bickerin’ there;
For Murray’s light horse are to muster,
 And O how the heroes will swear!
And there will be Murray, Commander,
 And Gordon, the battle to win;
Like brothers they’ll stand by each other,
 Sae knit in alliance and kin.


And there will be black-nebbit Johnie,
 The tongue o’ the trump to...Read more of this...

369. Song—My Collier Laddie

by Robert Burns
 WHARE live ye, my bonie lass?
 And tell me what they ca’ ye;
My name, she says, is mistress Jean,
 And I follow the Collier laddie.
 My name, she says, &c.


See you not yon hills and dales
 The sun shines on sae brawlie;
They a’ are mine, and they shall be thine,
 Gin ye’ll leave your Collier laddie.
 They a’ are...Read more of this...

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