Robert+Burns

Robert Burns By: Parker, Chris, & David




 * 25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796
 * Died of rheumatic fever.
 * The first published work of poetry by Robert Burns was "Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect"


 * After his marrige he turn his efforts to his family.
 * He had eleven children.
 * Elizabeth ~ Born 1785 to Elizabeth Paton.
 * Robert and Jean ~ Born September 1786 Jean Armour.
 * Twins Girls ~ Born March 3, 1788 to Jean Armour. They died on March 10 & 22 1788.
 * Son ~ Born November, 1788 to Jenny Clow.
 * Elizabeth ~ Born March 3, 1791 Anne Park.
 * William Nicol ~ Born April 9, 1791 Jean Armour Burns.
 * Elizabeth Riddle ~ Born November 21, 1792 to Maria Riddle.
 * James Glancarin ~ Born August 12, 1794 to Jean Armour Burns.
 * Maxwell ~ Born July 25, 1796 to Jean Armour Burns. Born the day Rabbie was burried.


 * Born in Alloway, Ayrshire, Scotland.
 * Died in Dumfries, Scotland.
 * His nicknames were ** Rabbie Burns **, ** Scotland's favorite son **, the ** Ploughman Poet **, ** Robden of Solway Firth **, the ** Bard of Ayrshire, ** and in Scotland simply ** The Bard. **
 * By the age of 15, Burns was the principal labourer at Mount Oliphant.
 * He was the eldest of the seven children.
 * <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 3em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Robert Burns spelled his surname Burnes until 1786 when he changed it to Burns.
 * <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 3em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">His father was William Burnes (1721–1784).
 * <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 3em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">His mother was Agnes Broun (1732–1820).
 * <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 3em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">When his father died in 1784, he was left in charge of the farm.
 * <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 3em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">He was 37 years old when he died.

__//**Chris's poem**//__ Afar the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; [|An] inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity's bounty fed, Haunted [|by] busy memory's bitter tale! Beasts of the forest have their savage homes, But He, who should imperial purple wear, Owns not the [|lap] of earth where rests his royal head! His wretched refuge, dark despair, While ravening wrongs and woes pursue, And distant far the faithful few Who would his sorrows share.

False flatterer, Hope, away! Nor think to lure us as in days of yore: We solemnize this sorrowing natal day, To prove our loyal truth-we can [|no] more, And owning Heaven's mysterious sway, Submissive, [|low] adore.

Ye honored, mighty Dead, Who nobly perished in the glorious cause, Your King, your Country, and her laws,

From great Dundee, who smiling Victory led, And [|fell] a Martyr in her arms, (What breast of northern ice [|but] warms!) To bold Balmerino's undying name, Whose soul of fire, lighted at Heaven's high flame, Deserves the proudest wreath departed heroes claim: Nor unrevenged your fate shall lie, It only lags, the fatal hour, Your blood shall, with incessant cry, Awake at last, th' unsparing Power; As from the cliff, with thundering course, The snowy ruin smokes along With doubling speed and gathering force, Till deep it, crushing, whelms the cottage in the vale; So Vengeance' arm, ensanguin'd, strong, Shall with resistless might assail, Usurping Brunswick's pride shall lay, And Stewart's wrongs and yours, with tenfold weight repay.

Perdition, baleful child of night! Rise and revenge the injured right Of Stewart's royal race: Lead on the unmuzzled hounds of hell, [|Till] all the frighted echoes tell The blood-notes of the chase! Full on the quarry point their view, Full on the base usurping crew, The tools of faction, and the nation's curse! Hark how the cry grows on the wind; They leave the lagging gale behind, Their savage fury, pitiless, they pour; With murdering eyes already they devour; See Brunswick spent, a wretched prey, His life one poor despairing day, Where each avenging hour still ushers in a worse! Such havock, howling all abroad, Their utter ruin bring, The base apostates to their God, [|Or] rebels to their King.


 * //__David's poem__//**

**<span style="color: #3c605b; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">To A Mouse ****<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt;">by Robert Burns ** <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">On Turning her up in her Nest with the Plough

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> O what a panic's in thy breastie! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Thou need na start awa sae hasty, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Wi' bickering brattle! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Wi' murd'ring pattle!

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> I'm truly sorry man's dominion <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Has broken nature's social union, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' justifies that ill opinion <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Which makes thee startle <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> At me, thy poor earth-born companion, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' fellow-mortal!

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve; <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> A daimen-icker in a thrave <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> 'S a sma' request: <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> And never miss't!

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Its silly wa's the win's are strewin': <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> And naething, now, to big a new ane, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> O' foggage green! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' bleak December's winds ensuin' <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Baith snell an' keen!

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' weary winter comin' fast, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' cozie here, beneath the blast, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Thou thought to dwell, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Till, crash! the cruel coulter past <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Out thro' thy cell.

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> But house or hald, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> To thole the winter's sleety dribble <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' cranreuch cauld!

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> In proving foresight may be vain: <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> The best laid schemes o' mice an' men <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Gang aft a-gley, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> For promised joy.

<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Still thou art blest, compared wi' me! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> The present only toucheth thee: <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> But, oh! I backward cast my e'e <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> On prospects drear! <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> An' forward, tho' I canna see, <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> I guess an' fear!

__** A Man's A Man For A' That **__
 * //__Parker's poem__//**

Is there for honesty poverty That hings his head, an' a' that; The coward slave - we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Our toils obscure an' a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin grey, an' a' that? Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a' that, The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that; Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, His ribband, star, an' a' that, The man o' independent mind He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquise, duke, an' a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities an' a' that, The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may, (As come it will for a' that,) That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree, an' a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, It's comin yet for a' that That man to man, the world o'er, Shall brithers be for a' that.