Best Famous Wons Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Wons poems. This is a select list of the best famous Wons poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Wons poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of wons poems.
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Written by
Robert Burns |
Chorus.—MY lady’s gown, there’s gairs upon’t,
And gowden flowers sae rare upon’t;
But Jenny’s jimps and jirkinet,
My lord thinks meikle mair upon’t.
My lord a-hunting he is gone,
But hounds or hawks wi’ him are nane;
By Colin’s cottage lies his game,
If Colin’s Jenny be at hame.
My lady’s gown, &c.
My lady’s white, my lady’s red,
And kith and kin o’ Cassillis’ blude;
But her ten-pund lands o’ tocher gude;
Were a’ the charms his lordship lo’ed.
My lady’s gown, &c.
Out o’er yon muir, out o’er yon moss,
Whare gor-cocks thro’ the heather pass,
There wons auld Colin’s bonie lass,
A lily in a wilderness.
My lady’s gown, &c.
Sae sweetly move her genty limbs,
Like music notes o’lovers’ hymns:
The diamond-dew in her een sae blue,
Where laughing love sae wanton swims.
My lady’s gown, &c.
My lady’s dink, my lady’s drest,
The flower and fancy o’ the west;
But the lassie than a man lo’es best,
O that’s the lass to mak him blest.
My lady’s gown, &c.
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Written by
Robert Burns |
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.
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