Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O’er a’ the ills o’ life victorious.
ROBERT BURNSShe is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o’ mine.
More Robert Burns Quotes
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The golden hours on angel wings Flew o’er me and my dearie, For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.
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I’m truly sorry man’s dominion has broken Nature’s social union.
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Nature’s law, That man was made to mourn. Man’s inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn! O Death, the poor man’s dearest friend, The kindest and the best!
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Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!
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The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.
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The honest man, though e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men, for a’ that!
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When chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare.
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My Son, these maxims make a rule An lump them ay thegither: The Rigid Righteous is a fool, The Rigid Wise anither.
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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.
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If there’s another world, he lives in bliss; if there is none, he made the best of this.
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God knows, I’m not the thing I should be, Nor am I even the thing I could be, But twenty times I rather would be An atheist clean, Than under gospel colours hid be Just for a screen.
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I have a hundred times wished that one could resign life as an officer resigns a commission.
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A mind that is conscious of its integrity scorns to say more than it means to perform.
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Life is but a day at most.
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Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep’d in the morning dews.
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The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o’ the morn.
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Your lines, I maintain it, are poetry, and good poetry. Friendship had I been so blest as to have met with you in time, might have led me – God of love only knows where.
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It ‘s guid to be merry and wise, It ‘s guid to be honest and true, It ‘s guid to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the buff and the blue.
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The wisest man the warl’ e’er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
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Suspicion is a heavy armor and with its weight it impedes more than it protects.
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O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent
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To step aside is human.
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Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
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But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it’s bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.
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Some rhyme a neebor’s name to lash; Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu’ cash; Some rhyme to court the countra clash, An’ raise a din; For me, an aim I never fash; I rhyme for fun.
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Suspense is worst than disappointment.
ROBERT BURNS