Famous Nae Poems by Famous Poets

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

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66. Elegy on the Death of Robert Ruisseaux

by Robert Burns
 NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lair,
He’ll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair;
Cauld poverty, wi’ hungry stare,
 Nae mair shall fear him;
Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care,
 E’er mair come near him.


To tell the truth, they seldom fash’d him,
Except the moment that they crush’d him;
For sune as chance or fate had hush’d ’em
 Tho’ e’er sae short.
Then wi’...Read more of this...

61. Second Epistle to J. Lapraik

by Robert Burns
 WHILE new-ca’d kye rowte at the stake
An’ pownies reek in pleugh or braik,
This hour on e’enin’s edge I take,
 To own I’m debtor
To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik,
 For his kind letter.


Forjesket sair, with weary legs,
Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs,
Or dealing thro’ amang the naigs
 Their ten-hours’ bite,
My awkart Muse sair pleads and begs
 I would na write.


The tapetless, ramfeezl’d...Read more of this...

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...

41. Epistle to John Rankine

by Robert Burns
 O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankine,
The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drinkin!
There’s mony godly folks are thinkin,
 Your dreams and tricks
Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin
 Straught to auld Nick’s.


Ye hae saw mony cracks an’ cants,
And in your wicked, drucken rants,
Ye mak a devil o’ the saunts,
 An’ fill them fou;
And then their failings, flaws, an’ wants,
 Are a’ seen...Read more of this...

513. Song—Steer her up and haud her gaun

by Robert Burns
 O STEER her up, an’ haud her gaun,
 Her mither’s at the mill, jo;
An’ gin she winna tak a man,
 E’en let her tak her will, jo.
First shore her wi’ a gentle kiss,
 And ca’ anither gill, jo;
An’ gin she tak the thing amiss,
 E’en let her flyte her fill, jo.


O steer her up, an’ be na blate,
 An’...Read more of this...

527. Song—Address to the Woodlark

by Robert Burns
 O STAY, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts thy lay,
 Thy soothing, fond complaining.
Again, again that tender part,
That I may catch thy melting art;
For surely that wad touch her heart
 Wha kills me wi’ disdaining.


Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh, nocht but love and sorrow join’d,
...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...

308. The Epitaph on Captain Matthew Henderson

by Robert Burns
 STOP, passenger! my story’s brief,
 And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell nae common tale o’ grief,
 For Matthew was a great man.


If thou uncommon merit hast,
 Yet spurn’d at Fortune’s door, man;
A look of pity hither cast,
 For Matthew was a poor man.


If thou a noble sodger art,
 That passest by this grave, man;
There moulders here a gallant...Read more of this...

116. On a Scotch Bard gone to the West Indies

by Robert Burns
 A’ YE wha live by sowps o’ drink,
A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink,
A’ ye wha live and never think,
 Come, mourn wi’ me!
Our billie ’s gien us a’ a jink,
 An’ owre the sea!


Lament him a’ ye rantin core,
Wha dearly like a random splore;
Nae mair he’ll join the merry roar;
 In social key;
For now he’s taen anither shore.
 An’...Read more of this...

243. Elegy on the Year 1788

by Robert Burns
 FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn,
E’en let them die-for that they’re born:
But oh! prodigious to reflec’!
A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck!
O Eighty-eight, in thy sma’ space,
What dire events hae taken place!
Of what enjoyments thou hast reft us!
In what a pickle thou has left us!


 The Spanish empire’s tint a head,
And my auld teethless, Bawtie’s dead:
The tulyie’s teugh...Read more of this...

361. Song—Behold the Hour the Boat arrive

by Robert Burns
 BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive!
 My dearest Nancy, O fareweel!
Severed frae thee, can I survive,
 Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae weel?


Endless and deep shall be my grief;
 Nae ray of comfort shall I see,
But this most precious, dear belief,
 That thou wilt still remember me!


Alang the solitary shore
 Where flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
Across the rolling,...Read more of this...

310. Tam o' Shanter: A Tale

by Robert Burns
 WHEN chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet;
As market days are wearing late,
And 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 hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering...Read more of this...

544. Song—Crowdie ever mair

by Robert Burns
 O THAT I had ne’er been married,
 I wad never had nae care,
Now I’ve gotten wife an’ weans,
 An’ they cry “Crowdie” evermair.


Chorus.—Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
 Three times crowdie in a day
Gin ye crowdie ony mair,
 Ye’ll crowdie a’ my meal away.


Waefu’ Want and Hunger fley me,
 Glowrin’ by the hallan en’;
Sair I fecht them at the door,
 But...Read more of this...

419. Bonie Jean: A Ballad

by Robert Burns
 THERE was a lass, and she was fair,
 At kirk or market to be seen;
When a’ our fairest maids were met,
 The fairest maid was bonie Jean.


And aye she wrought her mammie’s wark,
 And aye she sang sae merrilie;
The blythest bird upon the bush
 Had ne’er a lighter heart than she.


But hawks will rob the tender joys
 That bless...Read more of this...

319. Lament for James Earl of Glencairn

by Robert Burns
 THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills,
 By fits the sun’s departing beam
Look’d on the fading yellow woods,
 That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream:
Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard,
 Laden with years and meikle pain,
In loud lament bewail’d his lord,
 Whom Death had all untimely ta’en.


He lean’d him to an ancient aik,
 Whose trunk was mould’ring down with years;
His...Read more of this...

Fareweel ye bughts

by James Thomson
 1. Fareweel, ye bughts, an' all your ewes, 
An' fields whare bIoomin' heather grows; 
Nae mair the sportin' lambs I'll see 
Since my true love's forsaken me. 

CHORUS. 
Nae mair I'll hear wi' pleasure sing 
The cheerfu' lav'rock in the Spring, 
But sad in grief now I maun mourn, 
Far, far frae her, o'er Logan-burn. 

2. Alas! nae mair...Read more of this...

71. Second Epistle to Davie

by Robert Burns
 AULD NEIBOUR,I’m three times doubly o’er your debtor,
For your auld-farrant, frien’ly letter;
Tho’ I maun say’t I doubt ye flatter,
 Ye speak sae fair;
For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter
 Some less maun sair.


Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle,
Lang may your elbuck jink diddle,
To cheer you thro’ the weary widdle
 O’ war’ly cares;
Till barins’ barins kindly cuddle
 Your auld...Read more of this...

295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock

by Robert Burns
 ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789.WOW, but your letter made me vauntie!
And are ye hale, and weel and cantie?
I ken’d it still, your wee bit jauntie
 Wad bring ye to:
Lord send you aye as weel’s I want ye!
 And then ye’ll do.


The ill-thief blaw the Heron south!
And never drink be near his drouth!
He tauld myself by word o’ mouth,
 He’d tak...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...

482. Song—Pretty Peg my dearie

by Robert Burns
 AS I gaed up by yon gate-end,
 When day was waxin’ weary,
Wha did I meet come down the street,
 But pretty Peg, my dearie!


Her air sae sweet, an’ shape complete,
 Wi’ nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
 Wi’ motion mair enchanting.


Wi’ linkèd hands we took the sands,
 Adown yon winding river;
Oh, that sweet hour and shady...Read more of this...

401. Song—Meg o' the Mill

by Robert Burns
 O KEN ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten,
An’ ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten?
She gotten a coof wi’ a claut o’ siller,
And broken the heart o’ the barley Miller.


The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy;
A heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady;
The laird was a widdifu’, bleerit knurl;
She’s left the...Read more of this...

531. Song—'Twas na her bonie blue e'e

by Robert Burns
 ’TWAS na her bonie blue e’e was my ruin,
Fair tho’ she be, that was ne’er my undoin’;
’Twas the dear smile when nae body did mind us,
’Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness:
’Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness.


Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me,
Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me,
But tho’ fell...Read more of this...

367. Song—When she cam ben she bobbed

by Robert Burns
 O WHEN she cam’ ben she bobbed fu’ law,
 O when she cam’ ben she bobbed fu’ law,
And when she cam’ ben, she kiss’d Cockpen,
 And syne denied she did it at a’.


 And was na Cockpen right saucy witha’?
 And was na Cockpen right saucy witha’?
In leaving the daughter of a lord,
 And kissin’ a collier lassie an’...Read more of this...

515. Song—O let me in this ae night

by Robert Burns
 O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
For Love has bound me hand an’ fit,
 And I would fain be in, jo.


Chorus.—O let me in this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
O let me in this ae night,
I’ll no come back again, jo!


O hear’st thou not the wind an’ weet?
Nae star blinks thro’ the driving...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...

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