Titles of the works of Burns.

[Welcomefamily]

It could be his poems such as the court of equity or a song or ballad or one of his epistles.
So we start with court of equity-poem.

[trinkie]

Welcome to you, the Welcomefamily, good to have you here.

You say 'titles' !! Oh dear, that's not enough for me I was not blessed with the Scots gift of brevity. Please forgive me for writing the verses of my favourite poem by Burns, I felt some folk may not have come across them before and would like to read them now.



John Anderson, My Jo.
Words by Robert Burns


John Anderson, my jo John,
When we were first acqaent,
Your locks were like the raven
Your bonnie brow was brent,
But now your brow is beld John,
Your locks are like the snaw,
But blessings on your frosty prow,
John Anderson, my jo.


John Anderson, my jo John,
We clamb the hills thegither,
And mony a canty day John,
We've had wi ane anither,
Now we maun totter down John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And we'll sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I quote
''John Anderson My Jo appeared in a
MS written about 1560. It appears
that this John Anderson was the
Town Piper of Kelso, and a remarkable
character.
The air is a very old one.
The stanzas given above were written by Burns
for Johnson's Museum in 1789 – the verses were
not well received - Burns has suffered much
injustice of this kind.''


Neveretheless, I love it, there are very few songs
an ould wifie can sing with such conviction !
Thanks Rabbie .

[Welcomefamily]

When Deaths dark stream I ferry o'er, A time that surely shall come; In Heaven itself I'll ask no more, Than just such as trinkie's welcome.

Here lie Willie Michies banes;
O Satan! when ye tak' him,
Gi'e him the schoolin' o' your weans,
For clever de'ils he ll mak' 'em!

[Housewifie]

I like on seeing Miss Fontenelle,
Sweet naivete of feature,
Simple, wild, enchanting elf
Not to thess, but thanks to Nature,
Thou art acting but thyself.

[Housewifie]

I also like the wounded hare one.
Go live, poor wanderer of the wood and field,
The bitter little of life remains

[Welcomefamily]

Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Spurning nature, torturing art.
I must admit that its not my favourite but your second choice is a very good, it has real depth and feeling in it.
Just the way its starts,

Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art,
And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye;
May never pity soothe thee with a sigh,
Not ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart.