ROBERT BURNS, the Ploughman Poet

1. ROBERT BURNS, the Ploughman Poet

2.

Robert Burns, Scotland's favourite son,
the Ploughman Poet, the Bard of
Ayrshire was born in January 25, 1759 two
miles south of Ayr, in Alloway, South
Ayrshire, Scotland. Robert was the eldest of
the seven children of William Burness, a
farmer, and Agnes Broun. Burns grew up in
poverty and hardship, and the severe
manual labour of the farm left its traces in a
premature stoop and a weakened
constitution. He had little regular schooling
and got much of his education from his
father, who taught his children reading,
writing, arithmetic, geography, and history
After a few years of home education, Burns
was sent to Dalrymple Parish School
during the summer of 1772 before
returning at harvest time to full-time farm
labouring until 1773, when he was sent to
Lodge for three weeks to study grammar,
French, and Latin.

3.

Robert Burns began writing poetry
at the age of 15.
He is the best known of the poets
who have written in the Scots
language although much of his
writing is also in English and a
'light' Scots dialect. Burns is widely
regarded as the national poet of
Scotland, and a pioneer of the
Romantic movement. His influence
has been strong on Scottish
literature. As well as making
original compositions, Burns also
collected folk songs from across
Scotland, often revising or adapting
them.
Brig O'Doon, Alloway
Burns Cottage in Alloway,
Scotland

4.

His poem (and song) Auld Lang
Syne is often sung at Hogmanay
(New Year), and Scots Wha Hae
served for a long time as an
unofficial national anthem of the
country. Other poems and songs
of Burns that remain well-known
across the world today, include A
Red, Red Rose, A Man's A Man
for A' That, To a Louse, To a
Mouse, The Battle of
Sherramuir, Ae Fond Kis and
others.

5. My Heart's In The Highlands

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell
Farewell
Farewell
Farewell
to
to
to
to
the
the
the
the
mountains, high-covered with snow,
straths and green vallies below;
forests and wild-hanging woods,
torrents and loud-pouring floods.

6. A Red, Red Rose This is surely the most famous love poem and a well-known song, which women particularly enjoy

O, my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my Luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair as thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with sun:
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run:
And fare thee well, my only luve!
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it ware ten thousand mile.

7. Of a' the airts This short poem is devoted to Burns’ wife, Jean Armour, and is a declaration of his love for her.

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonie lassie lives,
The lassie I love best.
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
And monie a hill between,
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever with my Jean.
I see her in the dewy flowers I see her sweet and fair.
I hear her in the tuneful birds I hear her charm the air.
There's not a bonie flower that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bonie bird that sings,
But minds me of my Jean.

8. My Father Was a Farmer

My father was a farmer
Upon the Carrick border
And carefully he bred me
In decency and order
He bade me act a manly part,
Though I had never a farthing
For without an honest manly heart,
No man was worth regarding
Then out into the world
My course I did determine
Tho' to be rich was not my wish,
Yet to be great was charming
My talents they were not the worst,
Nor yet my education
Resolved was I, at least to try,
To mend my situation
In many a way, and vain essay,
I courted fortune's favour
Some cause unseen still stept between,
To frustrate each endeavour
Sometimes by foes I was overpowered,
Sometimes by friends forsaken
And when my hope was at the top,
I still was worst mistaken.

9.

Then sore harass'd, and tired at last,
With fortune's vain delusion
I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams,
And came to this conclusion
The past was bad, and the future hid;
Its good or ill untried
But the present hour, was in my power
And so I would enjoy it.
No help, nor hope, nor view had I,
Nor person to befriend me
So I must toil, and sweat and broil,
And labour to sustain me
To plough and sow, to reap and mow,
My father bred me early
For one, he said, to labour bred,
Was a match for fortune fairly.
Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor,
Thro' life I'm doomed to wander
Till down my weary bones I lay,
In everlasting slumber
No view nor care, but shun whatever
Might breed me pain or sorrow
I live today as well as I may,
Regardless of tomorrow
But cheerful still, I am as well,
As a monarch in a palace
Tho' Fortune's frown still hunts me down,
With all her wonted malice
I make indeed my daily bread,
But never can make it farther
But, as daily bread is all I need,
I do not much regard her
When sometimes by my labour
I earn a little money
Some unforeseen misfortune
Comes generally upon me
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect,
Or my goodnatured folly
But come what will, I've sworn it still,
I'll never be melancholy
All you who follow wealth and power,
With unremitting ardour
The more in this you look for bliss,
You leave your view the farther
Had you the wealth Potosi boasts,
Or nations to adorn you
A cheerful honest-hearted clown
I will prefer before you.

10. Although Burns lived a short life, dying at the age of 37, it was fulfilling and eventful. Starting out as a farmer then moving

on to become a writer,
Burns travelled throughout Scotland
where he gathered inspiration for
much of his work. The stunning
Ayrshire scenery and the romantic
setting of Dumfries helped provide the
insight for compiling much of his
romantic material
Dumfries, St Michael's Church,
Burial Place of Robert Burns
Robert Burns died in this house in
Dumfries in 1796
Robert Burns Mausoleum at St
Michaels churchyard in Dumfries.

11.

Today, throughout Scotland there are landmarks, museums and visitor centres all
dedicated to the life and work of Robert Burns.
The Burns Monument in Alloway
Statue of Burns in
Dumfries town center.
The National Burns
Memorial at Mauchline
Burns Monument, Kay Park Kilmarnock

12. BURNS NIGHTS

After his death on 21 July
1796, Burns enthusiasts around
the world have been
celebrating his life and his
genius each year at or around
his birth date. This first
recorded Burns celebration
was held in July 1801 on the
anniversary of his death. Later
it would change to the evening
of the anniversary of his birth
and would become "Burns
Night" with the focal point
being the "Burns Supper“.

13. Burns Supper

The Burns Supper is an
institution of Scottish life:
a night to celebrate the life
and works of the national
Bard. Suppers can range
from an informal gathering
of friends to a huge, formal
dinner full of pomp and
circumstance. The items
which suppers have in
common are haggis, Scotch
whisky, Burns poems and
songs, dancing and some
traditional pipe music.

14. At the end of the party everyone is asked to stand, join hands, and sing Auld Lang Syne which brings the evening to an end.

Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And here's a hand, my trusty friend!
And gives a hand o’thine!
We'll take a a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.