---
title: "Auld Rob Morris"
author: "Robert Burns"
form: "Poem"
year: "1792"
location: "Dumfries"
source: "Project Gutenberg #1279 — Poems and Songs of Robert Burns"
source_url: "https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1279/pg1279.txt"
canonical_url: "https://robert-burns.com/poems/auld-rob-morris/"
---

# Auld Rob Morris

## Poem
There’s Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,  
He’s the King o’ gude fellows, and wale o’ auld men;  
He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine,  
And ae bonie lass, his dautie and mine.

She’s fresh as the morning, the fairest in May;  
She’s sweet as the ev’ning amang the new hay;  
As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea,  
And dear to my heart as the light to my e’e.

But oh! she’s an Heiress, auld Robin’s a laird,  
And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard;  
A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed,  
The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead.

The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane;  
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane;  
I wander my lane like a night-troubled ghaist,  
And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast.

O had she but been of a lower degree,  
I then might hae hop’d she wad smil’d upon me!  
O how past descriving had then been my bliss,  
As now my distraction nae words can express.

---

Source: [Project Gutenberg #1279 — Poems and Songs of Robert Burns](https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1279/pg1279.txt)  
Canonical HTML: https://robert-burns.com/poems/auld-rob-morris/