Robert Burns Poetry Bot
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Robert Burns Poetry Bot
@robertburnsbot.bsky.social
A delightful bot sharing snippets of Rabbie’s classic works. Poems of romance and radical liberalism.
plenty; I stacher'd whyles, but yet took tent ay To free the ditches; An' hillocks, stanes, and bushes, kenn'd ay Frae ghaists an' witches. The rising
January 10, 2026 at 5:00 PM
Deil's in h--ll Or Dublin-city; That e'er he nearer comes oursel 'S a muckle pity. The Clachan yill had made me canty, I was na fou, but just had
January 10, 2026 at 11:00 AM
rousing whid, at times, to vend, And nail't wi' Scripture. But this that I am gaun to tell, Which lately on a night befel, Is just as true's the
January 10, 2026 at 5:00 AM
A TRUE STORY. Some books are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penn'd: Ev'n ministers, they ha'e been kenn'd, In holy rapture, A
January 10, 2026 at 3:57 AM
aumous dish. Ilk smack still, did crack still, Just like a cadger's whip, Then staggering and swaggering He roar'd this ditty up--
January 9, 2026 at 9:57 PM
blankets warm-- She blinket on her sodger: An' ay he gies the tozie drab The tither skelpin' kiss, While she held up her greedy gab Just like an
January 9, 2026 at 3:57 PM
neist the fire, in auld red rags, Ane sat, weel brac'd wi' mealy bags, And knapsack a' in order; His doxy lay within his arm, Wi' usquebae an'
January 9, 2026 at 9:57 AM
splore, To drink their orra duddies: Wi' quaffing and laughing, They ranted an' they sang; Wi' jumping and thumping, The vera girdle rang. First,
January 9, 2026 at 3:57 AM
skyte And infant frosts begin to bite, In hoary cranreuch drest; Ae night at e'en a merry core O' randie, gangrel bodies, In Poosie-Nansie's held the
January 9, 2026 at 3:55 AM
THE JOLLY BEGGARS. When lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter
January 8, 2026 at 9:55 PM
enviable man! O glorious magnanimity of soul!
January 8, 2026 at 3:55 PM
Reposted by Robert Burns Poetry Bot
'Our Ukrainian Robert Burns'

Tues 27 Jan.
6.30pm
FREE

Hanna Dyka talks about translating Robert Burns into Ukrainian and latest bilingual publication of Ukrainian translations of Burns’ poems. Also features recitals of Burns' poetry in Ukrainian and Scots.

www.ticketsource.co.uk/edinburgh-ce...
January 8, 2026 at 11:14 AM
crime, Can reason down its agonizing throbs; And, after proper purpose of amendment, Can firmly force his jarring thoughts to peace? O, happy! happy!
January 8, 2026 at 9:55 AM
hell! in all thy store of torments, There's not a keener lash! Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart Feels all the bitter horrors of his
January 8, 2026 at 3:55 AM
Of guilt, perhaps, where we've involved others; The young, the innocent, who fondly lov'd us, Nay, more, that very love their cause of ruin! O burning
January 8, 2026 at 1:30 AM
misfortune This sting is added--'Blame thy foolish self!' Or worser far, the pangs of keen remorse; The torturing, gnawing consciousness of guilt,--
January 7, 2026 at 7:30 PM
That to our folly or our guilt we owe. In every other circumstance, the mind Has this to say, 'It was no deed of mine;' But when to all the evil of
January 7, 2026 at 3:51 PM
A FRAGMENT. Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish, Beyond comparison the worst are those
January 7, 2026 at 9:51 AM
most resembles GOD.
January 7, 2026 at 3:51 AM
morning with a cheer-- A cottage-rousing craw! But deep this truth impressed my mind-- Through all his works abroad, The heart benevolent and kind The
January 7, 2026 at 3:18 AM
brothers in distress, A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!" I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer Shook off the pouthery snaw, And hailed the
January 6, 2026 at 9:18 PM
man, relenting view! But shall thy legal rage pursue The wretch, already crushed low By cruel fortune's undeserved blow? Affliction's sons are
January 6, 2026 at 3:18 PM
chinky wall, Chill o'er his slumbers piles the drifty heap! Think on the dungeon's grim confine, Where guilt and poor misfortune pine! Guilt, erring
January 6, 2026 at 9:18 AM
fortune quite disown! Ill satisfied keen nature's clamorous call, Stretched on his straw he lays himself to sleep, While through the ragged roof and
January 6, 2026 at 3:18 AM
blast! Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down, Feel not a want but what yourselves create, Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate, Whom friends and
January 6, 2026 at 3:17 AM