ROBERT BURNS'S POEM - A RED, RED ROSE

 

 

On the 20 th day of the Blog chatter’s #WRITEAPAGEADAY, Here is a poem with love as the major theme.

 

Poet:  ROBERTS BURNS

Poem:   A RED, RED ROSE

 

   O my Luve is like a red, red rose

   That’s newly sprung in June;

   O my Luve is like the melody

   That’s sweetly played in tune.

   As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

   So deep in luve am I;

    And I will luve thee still, my dear,

   Till a’ the seas gang dry.

 

  Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

   While the sands o’ life shall run.

 

   And fare thee weel, my only luve!

   And fare thee weel awhile!

   And I will come again, my luve,

   Though it were ten thousand mile.

 The bulk of Robert Bruns's work was done between 1789 and 1796.    Pace, passion, precision; these things mark his great achievement, whether in satire or song. The special genius of Burns lay in the unerring instinct with which he seized upon the scattered folk poetry of Scotland, transmuting its ore through the alembic of his own ardent imagination into the most precious gold, its alloy purged away, its treasure refined and beautified.

 Poetry, as Words Worth said, comes from the heart and goes to the heart. The truth of this saying is never more apparent than when we are reading Burns; whether he is telling of the love of a man for a maid, of family kinship round the cottage hearthstone, of a wounded hare, of a scarred and sorrowful human life; this vibrant heart appeal lifts the simple material of his songs into that stuff of life, which always gives literature its humanising power. The charm of Burns best verse lies in his perfect mingling of man and nature.