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My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav’n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

Robert Burns

The honest man, though e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men, for a’ that!
ROBERT BURNS

Honesty King Man Poor
But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.
ROBERT BURNS

Forever Love See
The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
ROBERT BURNS

Best Man Planning Wasted
When matters are desperate we must put on a desperate face.
ROBERT BURNS

Desperate Face
Nae man can tether time or tide.
ROBERT BURNS

Change Man One Liner Time
Oh my luve’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June; Oh my luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in tune.
ROBERT BURNS

Play Red Rose
What is life, when wanting love? Night without a morning; Love’s the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.
ROBERT BURNS

Admire Life Love Morning Nature Night Sun
Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
ROBERT BURNS

Critics Fame Path Struggle
A women can make an average man great, and a great man average.
ROBERT BURNS

Average Greatness Man Power Woman
An honest man here lies at rest, the friend of man the friend of truth the friend of age and guide of youth. Few hearts like his with virtue warmed, few heads with knowledge so informed. If there’s another world, he lives in bliss. If there is none, he made the best of this.
ROBERT BURNS

Best Friendship Himself Honesty Knowledge Lie Live Man Virtue World
And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.
ROBERT BURNS

Herself Light Pass Run Thinking
She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o’ mine.
ROBERT BURNS

Appearance Beautiful Herself Love Myself Wife
Suspense is worst than disappointment.
ROBERT BURNS

Disappointment One Liner Worst
Dare to be honest and fear no labor.
ROBERT BURNS

Brave Dare Fear Honesty
Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine, An’ fill it in a silver tassie.
ROBERT BURNS

Silver Wine
Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!
ROBERT BURNS

Human Mourning Silver

My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav’n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

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My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav’n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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