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Burns Supper Songs and Poems That’s sweetly play'd in tune. Burns Supper Poems As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, and Songs So deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose ........................ 1 Till a’ the seas gang dry: A Man’s A Man for A’ That ................................. 1 To a Louse, on seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet at Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, Church ................................................................ 2 And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will luve thee still, my dear, To a Mouse ........................................................ 2 While the sands o’ life shall run. The Battle of Sherramuir ................................... 3 Tam o' Shanter. A Tale ....................................... 4 And fare thee weel, my only Luve Ae Fond Kiss ....................................................... 7 And fare thee weel, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Auld Lang Syne ................................................... 7 Tho’ it were ten thousand mile. Scots Wha Hae ................................................... 8 To a Haggis ......................................................... 8 A Man’s A Man for A’ That Holy Willie's Prayer ............................................ 8 Is there for honest poverty Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon ................. 10 That hangs his head, an' a' that The coward slave, we pass him by Such a parcel of rogues in a nation .................. 10 We dare be Poor for a' that The Braes O' Killiecrankie ................................. 10 For a' that, an' a' that The Rights Of Woman ...................................... 11 Our toil's obscure and a' that The rank is but the guinea's stamP Loch Lomond ................................................... 11 The man's the gowd for a' that Scotland the Brave ........................................... 12 The Skye Boat Song .......................................... 12 What though on hamely fare we dine Both Sides of the Tweed .................................. 12 Wear hoddin grey, an' a' that Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine Charlie is my Darling ........................................ 13 A man's a man, for a' that Coming thru the Rye ........................................ 13 For a' that, an' a' that Lewis Bridal Song ............................................. 13 Their tinsel show an' a' that The Wild Mountain Thyme Lyrics .................... 14 The honest man, though e'er sae poor Is king o' men for a' that O Flower Of Scotland ....................................... 14 Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose Wha struts an' stares an' a' that O my Luve's like a red, red rose Tho' hundreds worship at his word That’s newly sprung in June: He's but a coof for a' that O my Luve's like the melodie For a' that, an' a' that 1 His ribband, star and a' that In shoals and nations; The man o' independent mind Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle He looks an' laughs at a' that Your thick plantations. A Prince can mak' a belted knight Now haud you there, ye're out o' sight, A marquise, duke, an' a' that Below the fatt'rells, snug an' tight; But an honest man's aboon his might Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right Gude faith, he maunna fa' that 'Till ye've got on it, For a' that an' a' that The vera topmost, tow'ring height Their dignities an' a' that O' Miss's bonnet. The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth Are higher rank that a' that My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out, As PlumP an' gray as onie grozet; Then let us pray that come it may O for some rank, mercurial rozet, (as come it will for a' that) Or fell, red smeddum, That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth I'd gie you sic a hearty doze o't, Shall bear the gree an' a' that Wad dross your droddum! For a' that an' a' that It's coming yet for a' that I wad na been surPris'd to spy That man to man, the world o'er You on an auld wife's flainen toy; Shall brithers be for a' that Or aiblins some bit duddie boy, On's wyliecoat; To a Louse, on seeing one on a But Miss's fine Lunardi! fie! Lady's Bonnet at Church How daur ye do't? Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie! O, Jenny, dinna toss your head, Your impudence protects you sairly: An' set your beauties a' abread! I canna say by ye strunt rarely, Ye little ken what cursed speed Owre gauze and lace; The blastie's makin'! Tho' faith, I fear, ye dine but sparely Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread, On sic a Place. Are notice takin'! Ye ugly, creepin', blastit wonner, O wad some Power the giftie gie us Detested, shunn'd, by saunt an' sinner, To see oursels as others see us! How dare you set your fit uPon her, It wad frae monie a blunder free us Sae fine a lady! An' foolish notion; Gae somewhere else, and seek your dinner What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, On some Poor body. And ev'n devotion! Swith, in some beggar's haffet squattle; To a Mouse There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, Wi' ither kindred, jumPing cattle, O, what a Panic's in thy breastie! 2 Thou need na start awa sae hasty But och! I backward cast my e'e, Wi bickering brattle! On ProsPects drear! I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, An' forward, tho' I canna see, Wi' murdering Pattle. I guess an' fear! I'm truly sorry man's dominion Has broken Nature's social union, The Battle of Sherramuir An' justifies that ill oPinion O cam ye here the fight to shun, Which makes thee startle Or herd the sheep wi' me, man? At me, thy Poor, earth born comPanion Or were ye at the Sherra-moor, An' fellow mortal! Or did the battle see, man?" I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve; I saw the battle, sair and teugh, What then? Poor beastie, thou maun live! And reekin-red ran mony a sheugh; A daimen icker in a thrave My heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough, 'S a sma' request; To hear the thuds, and see the cluds I'll get a blessin wi' the lave, O' clans frae woods, in tartan duds, An' never miss't. Wha glaum'd at kingdoms three, man. Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin! La, la, la, la, &c. It's silly wa's the win's are strewin! An' naething, now, to big a new ane, The red-coat lads, wi' black cockauds, O' foggage green! To meet them were na slaw, man; An' bleak December's win's ensuin, They rush'd and push'd, and blude outgush'd Baith snell an' keen! And mony a bouk did fa', man: Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, The great Argyle led on his files, An' weary winter comin fast, I wat they glanced twenty miles; An' cozie here, beneath the blast, They hough'd the clans like nine-pin kyles, Thou thought to dwell, They hack'd and hash'd, while braid-swords, Till crash! the cruel coulter past clash'd, Out thro' thy cell. And thro' they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd, That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, Till fey men died awa, man. Has cost thee monie a weary nibble! La, la, la, la, &c. Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, But had ye seen the Philibegs, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, And skyrin tartan trews, man; An' cranreuch cauld. When in the teeth they dar'd our Whigs, But Mousie, thou art no thy lane, And covenant True-blues, man: In proving foresight may be vain: In lines extended lang and large, The best laid schemes o' mice an' men When baiginets o'erPower'd the targe, Gang aft agley, And thousands hasten'd to the charge; An' lea'e us nought but grief an' Pain, Wi' Highland wrath they frae the sheath For promis'd joy! Drew blades o' death, till, out o' breath, Still thou are blest, compared wi' me! They fled like frighted dows, man! The present only toucheth thee: 3 La, la, la, la, &c. As market-days are wearing late, An' folk begin to tak' the gate; "O how deil, Tam, can that be true? While we sit bousing at the nappy, The chase gaed frae the north, man; An' gettin' fou and unco haPPy, I saw mysel, they did pursue, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The horsemen back to Forth, man; The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles, And at Dunblane, in my ain sight, That lie between us and our hame, They took the brig wi' a' their might, Where sits our sulky sullen dame, And straught to Stirling wing'd their flight; Gathering her brows like gathering storm, But, cursed lot! the gates were shut; Nursing her wrath to keeP it warm. And mony a huntit Poor red-coat, For fear amaist did swarf, man!" This truth fand honest Tam O' Shanter, La, la, la, la, &c. As he frae Ayr ae night did canter, (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surPasses, My sister Kate cam up the gate For honest men and bonny lasses.) Wi' crowdie unto me, man; O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise, She swoor she saw some rebels run As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice! To Perth unto Dundee, man; She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum, Their left-hand general had nae skill; A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum; The Angus lads had nae gude will That frae November till October, That day their neibors' blude to spill; Ae market-day thou wasna sober; For fear, for foes, that they should lose That ilka melder, wi' the miller, Their cogs o' brose; they scar'd at blows, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; And hameward fast did flee, man.
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