Robert Burns Poems

Back to Poems Page

AMANG the trees, where humming bees,
At buds and flowers were hinging, O,
Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
And to her pipe was singing, O:
’Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspeys, and Reels,
She dirl’d them aff fu’ clearly, O:
When there cam’ a yell o’ foreign squeels,
That dang her tapsalteerie, O.


Their capon craws an’ queer “ha, ha’s,”
They made our lugs grow eerie, O;
The hungry bike did scrape and fyke,
Till we were wae and weary, O:
But a royal ghaist, wha ance was cas’d,
A prisoner, aughteen year awa’,
He fir’d a Fiddler in the North,
That dang them tapsalteerie, O.

Email This Poem to a Friend

Previous Poem | Next Poem

View Robert Burns:  Poems | Quotes | Biography | Books

Copyright © 2006 - 2010 Famous Poets And Poems . com. All Rights Reserved.
The Poems and Quotes on this site are the property of their respective authors. All information has been
reproduced here for educational and informational purposes.