Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Mein Herz ist im Hochland (Burns) Mein Herz ist im Hochland, mein Herz ist nicht hier; Mein Herz jagt im Hochland des Waldes Gethier; Es jagt dort den Hirsch und es folgt dort dem Reh – Mein Herz ist im Hochland, wo immer ich geh’. 5 Lebwohl, du mein Hochland, lebwohl du mein Nord, Du Wiege von... Poet: Robert Burns	Burns Wild rose of Alloway! my thanks; Thou ’mindst me of that autumn noon When first we met upon “the banks And braes of bonny Doon.” Like thine, beneath the thorn-tree’s bough, My sunny hour was glad and brief; We ’ve crossed the winter sea,... Poet: Fitz-Greene Halleck	Written in the Visitors' Book at the Birthplace of Robert Burns Of heavenly stature, but most human smile, Gyved with our faults he stands, Truth’s white and Love’s red roses tendering us, Whose thorns are in his hands. Poet: George Washington Cable	“The day returns, my bosom burns” The Day returns, my bosom burns; The blissful day we twa did meet; Though winter wild in tempest toiled, Ne’er summer sun was half sae sweet. Than a’ the pride that loads the tide, And crosses o’er the sultry line,— Than kingly robes, and... Poet: Robert Burns
Burns A Poet’s Epitaph STOP, mortal! Here thy brother lies,— The poet of the poor. His books were rivers, woods, and skies, The meadow and the moor; His teachers were the torn heart’s wail, The tyrant, and the slave, The street,... Poet: Ebenezer Elliott	Burns On Receiving a Sprig of Heather in Blossom NO more these simple flowers belong To Scottish maid and lover; Sown in the common soil of song, They bloom the wide world over. In smiles and tears, in sun and showers, The minstrel and the... Poet: John Greenleaf Whittier	Auld Lang Syne (Songs from Robert Burns) Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne ? CHORUS ... Poet:	A Dream (Burns) Poet:
The Lamp burns sure — within — The Lamp burns sure — within — Tho' Serfs — supply the Oil — It matters not the busy Wick — At her phosphoric toil! The Slave — forgets — to fill — The Lamp — burns golden — on — Unconscious that the... Poet:	A Vision (Burns) As I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa'flower scents the dewy air, Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower, And tells the midnight moon her care. The winds were laid, the air was still, The stars they... Poet: