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Famous Stanes Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Burns, Robert
...y near the margin stray;
If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
 I’m scorching up so shallow,
They’re left the whitening stanes amang,
 In gasping death to wallow.


Last day I grat wi’ spite and teen,
 As poet Burns came by.
That, to a bard, I should be seen
 Wi’ half my channel dry;
A panegyric rhyme, I ween,
 Ev’n as I was, he shor’d me;
But had I in my glory been,
 He, kneeling, wad ador’d me.


Here, foaming down the skelvy rocks,
 In twisting strength I rin;
...Read More



by Burns, Robert
...arm should stain my laurels:
 But—what’ll ye say?
These movin’ things ca’d wives an’ weans,
Wad move the very hearts o’ stanes!...Read More

by Burns, Robert
...h’ enclosed letter,—Igo, and ago,
Which will oblige your humble debtor.—Iram, coram, dago.


So may ye hae auld stanes in store,—Igo, and ago,
The very stanes that Adam bore.—Iram, coram, dago,


So may ye get in glad possession,—Igo, and ago,
The coins o’ Satan’s coronation!—Iram coram dago....Read More

by Burns, Robert
...BELOW thir stanes lie Jamie’s banes;
 O Death, it’s my opinion,
Thou ne’er took such a bleth’rin *****
 Into thy dark dominion!...Read More

by Burns, Robert
...canty,
I was na fou, but just had plenty;
I stacher’d whiles, but yet too tent aye
 To free the ditches;
An’ hillocks, stanes, an’ bushes, kenn’d eye
 Frae ghaists an’ witches.


The rising moon began to glowre
The distant Cumnock hills out-owre:
To count her horns, wi’ a my pow’r,
 I set mysel’;
But whether she had three or four,
 I cou’d na tell.


I was come round about the hill,
An’ todlin down on Willie’s mill,
Setting my staff wi’ a’ my skill,
 To keep me sicke...Read More



by Burns, Robert
...market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho’ e’er sae duddie,
But he wad stan’t, as glad to see him,
An’ stroan’t on stanes an’ hillocks wi’ him.
 The tither was a ploughman’s collie—
A rhyming, ranting, raving billie,
Wha for his friend an’ comrade had him,
And in freak had Luath ca’d him,
After some dog in Highland Sang, 2
Was made lang syne,—Lord knows how lang.
 He was a gash an’ faithfu’ tyke,
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke.
His honest, sonsie, baws’nt face
...Read More

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