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  • Burns Night
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Occasion: Burns Night

Address to a Haggis - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
/ Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
/ Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
/ …

Rabbie, Rabbie, Burning Bright - by W. N. Herbert

{ Poem }

Atween November’s end and noo
/ there’s really nithin else tae do
/ but climb inside a brindlet coo
/ …

For the Centenary of The Scotch Whisky Association - by Liz Lochhead

{ Poem }

“If freedom an whisky gang thegither”: Robert Burns
/
/ i.
/ When we sit wined and finely dined,
/ Dressed up in oor best, braw and…

A Man’s a Man for a’ That - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

Is there for honest Poverty
/ That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
/ The coward-slave, we pass him by,
/ We dare be poor for…

The Original (Selkirk) and the Alternative Grace - by Richard Medrington

{ Poem }

with apologies
/
/ Some hae meat and canna eat
/ And some wad eat that want it:
/ But we hae meat and we can eat,
/ And…

A Birl for Burns - by Seamus Heaney

{ Poem }

From the start, Burns’ birl and rhythm,
/ That tongue the Ulster Scots brought wi’ them
/ And stick to still in County Antrim
/ Was…

To a Louse, On Seeing one on a Lady’s Bonnet at Church - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlan ferlie!
/ Your impudence protects you sairly:
/ I canna say but ye strunt rarely,
/ Owre gawze and lace;
/ Tho’…

Tam o’ Shanter - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this buke.
/ — Gawin Douglas
/
/ When chapman billies leave the street,
/ And drouthy neebors, neebors…

Mary Morison - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

O Mary, at thy window be,
/ It is the wish’d, the trysted hour;
/ Those smiles and glances let me see,
/ That make the…

A Red, Red Rose - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
/ That’s newly sprung in June;
/ O my…

To a Mouse - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion
An’ fellow-mortal!

Kate o Shanter’s Tale - by Matthew Fitt

{ Poem }

an extract
/
/ Now, wha this tale o’ truth shall read,
/ Ilk man and mother’s son, take heed:
/ Whene’er to drink you are inclin’d,
/ Or…

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