Famous Lang Poems by Famous Poets

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

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250. Song—She's Fair and Fause

by Robert Burns
 SHE’S fair and fause that causes my smart,
 I lo’ed her meikle and lang;
She’s broken her vow, she’s broken my heart,
 And I may e’en gae hang.
A coof cam in wi’ routh o’ gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear;
But Woman is but warld’s gear,
 Sae let the bonie lass gang.


Whae’er ye be that woman love,
 To this be...Read more of this...

225. Song—Of a' the Airts the Wind can Blaw

by Robert Burns
 OF 1 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’s wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
 And mony a hill between:
But day and night my fancys’ flight
 Is ever wi’ my Jean.


I see her in the dewy flowers,
 I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her...Read more of this...

485. Song—How lang and dreary is the night

by Robert Burns
 HOW lang and dreary is the night
 When I am frae my Dearie;
I restless lie frae e’en to morn
 Though I were ne’er sae weary.


Chorus.—For oh, her lanely nights are lang!
 And oh, her dreams are eerie;
And oh, her window’d heart is sair,
 That’s absent frae her Dearie!


When I think on the lightsome days
 I spent wi’ thee, my...Read more of this...

Villanelle At Sundown

by Donald Justice
 Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow.
The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened.
Why this is, I'll never be able to tell you.

Or are Americans half in love with failure?
One used to say so, reading Fitzgerald, as it happened.
(That Viking Portable, all water spotted and yellow--

remember?) Or does mere distance lend a value
to things? --false, it...Read more of this...

67. Epistle to John Goldie in Kilmarnock

by Robert Burns
 O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs,
Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend wigs!
Sour Bigotry, on her last legs,
 Girns an’ looks back,
Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues
 May seize you quick.


Poor gapin’, glowrin’ Superstition!
Wae’s me, she’s in a sad condition:
Fye: bring Black Jock, 1 her state physician,
 To see her water;
Alas, there’s ground for great suspicion
She’ll ne’er get better.


Enthusiasm’s past redemption,
Gane in...Read more of this...

11. Song—Here's to thy health my bonie lass

by Robert Burns
 HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass,
 Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee;
I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door,
 To tell thee that I lo’e thee.
O dinna think, my pretty pink,
 But I can live without thee:
I vow and swear I dinna care,
 How lang ye look about ye.


Thou’rt aye sae free informing me,
 Thou hast nae mind...Read more of this...

3. Song—I dream'd I lay

by Robert Burns
 I DREAM’D I lay where flowers were springing
 Gaily in the sunny beam;
List’ning to the wild birds singing,
 By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
 Thro’ the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Tress with aged arms were warring,
 O’er the swelling drumlie wave.


Such was my life’s deceitful morning,
 Such the pleasures I enjoyed:
But lang or noon, loud...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...

82. Song—Kissing my Katie

by Robert Burns
 O MERRY hae I been teethin’ a heckle,
 An’ merry hae I been shapin’ a spoon;
O merry hae I been cloutin’ a kettle,
 An’ kissin’ my Katie when a’ was done.
O a’ the lang day I ca’ at my hammer,
 An’ a’ the lang day I whistle and sing;
O a’ the lang night I cuddle my kimmer,
 An’ a’...Read more of this...

98. To Mr. M'Adam of Craigen-Gillan

by Robert Burns
 SIR, o’er a gill I gat your card,
 I trow it made me proud;
“See wha taks notice o’ the bard!”
 I lap and cried fu’ loud.


Now deil-ma-care about their jaw,
 The senseless, gawky million;
I’ll cock my nose abune them a’,
 I’m roos’d by Craigen-Gillan!


’Twas noble, sir; ’twas like yourself’,
 To grant your high protection:
A great man’s smile ye ken...Read more of this...

Auld Lang Syne

by Robert Burns
 Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang...Read more of this...

259. A New Psalm for the Chapel of Kilmarnock

by Robert Burns
 O SING a new song to the Lord,
 Make, all and every one,
A joyful noise, even for the King
 His restoration.


The sons of Belial in the land
 Did set their heads together;
Come, let us sweep them off, said they,
 Like an o’erflowing river.


They set their heads together, I say,
 They set their heads together;
On right, on left, on every...Read more of this...

364. Song—I do confess thou art sae fair

by Robert Burns
 I DO confess thou art sae fair,
 I was been o’er the lugs in luve,
Had I na found the slightest prayer
 That lips could speak thy heart could muve.


I do confess thee sweet, but find
 Thou art so thriftless o’ thy sweets,
Thy favours are the silly wind
 That kisses ilka thing it meets.


See yonder rosebud, rich in dew,
 Amang...Read more of this...

111. Address to Beelzebub

by Robert Burns
 LONG life, my Lord, an’ health be yours,
Unskaithed by hunger’d Highland boors;
Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,
Wi’ dirk, claymore, and rusty trigger,
May twin auld Scotland o’ a life
She likes—as butchers like a knife.


Faith you and Applecross were right
To keep the Highland hounds in sight:
I doubt na! they wad bid nae better,
Than let them ance out owre the water,
Then...Read more of this...

238. Song—Auld Lang Syne

by Robert Burns
 SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot,
 And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
 And auld lang syne!


Chorus.—For auld lang syne, my dear,
 For auld lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
 For auld lang syne.


And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp!
 And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’kindness yet,
 For auld lang syne.
 For...Read more of this...

331. Epigram at Brownhill Inn

by Robert Burns
 AT 1 Brownhill we always get dainty good cheer,
And plenty of bacon each day in the year;
We’ve a’ thing that’s nice, and mostly in season,
But why always Bacon—come, tell me a reason?


 Note 1. Bacon was the name of a presumably intrusive host. The lines are said to have “afforded much amusement.”—Lang. [back]...Read more of this...

The Lang Coortin

by Lewis Carroll
 The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
Wi' her doggie at her feet;
Thorough the lattice she can spy
The passers in the street, 

"There's one that standeth at the door,
And tirleth at the pin:
Now speak and say, my popinjay,
If I sall let him in." 

Then up and spake the popinjay
That flew abune her head:
"Gae let him in that tirls the...Read more of this...

84. Address to the Deil

by Robert Burns
 O THOU! whatever title suit thee—
Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie,
Wha in yon cavern grim an’ sootie,
 Clos’d under hatches,
Spairges about the brunstane cootie,
 To scaud poor wretches!


Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee,
An’ let poor damned bodies be;
I’m sure sma’ pleasure it can gie,
 Ev’n to a deil,
To skelp an’ scaud poor dogs like me,
 An’ hear us...Read more of this...

398. Lord Gregory: A Ballad

by Robert Burns
 O MIRK, mirk is this midnight hour,
 And loud the tempest’s roar;
A waefu’ wanderer seeks thy tower,
 Lord Gregory, ope thy door.
An exile frae her father’s ha’,
 And a’ for loving thee;
At least some pity on me shaw,
 If love it may na be.


Lord Gregory, mind’st thou not the grove
 By bonie Irwine side,
Where first I own’d that virgin...Read more of this...

283. Song—Willie brew'd a Peck o' Maut

by Robert Burns
 O WILLIE 1 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,
...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...

The Retired Cat

by William Cowper
 A poet's cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks to which she might retire,
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think.
I know not where she caught the trick--
Nature perhaps herself had cast her
In such a mould [lang f]philosophique[lang e],
Or else she learn'd it of her master.
Sometimes...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...

297. Election Ballad for Westerha'

by Robert Burns
 THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith
 Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie;
But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King—
 Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie.


Chorus.—Up and waur them a’, Jamie,
 Up and waur them a’;
The Johnstones hae the guidin o’t,
 Ye turncoat Whigs, awa’!


The day he stude his country’s friend,
 Or gied her faes a...Read more of this...

275. Song—The Laddie's dear sel'

by Robert Burns
 THERE’S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
 That he from our lassies should wander awa’;
For he’s bonie and braw, weel-favor’d witha’,
 An’ his hair has a natural buckle an’ a’.


His coat is the hue o’ his bonnet sae blue,
 His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;
His hose they are blae, and his shoon like...Read more of this...

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