And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.
ROBERT BURNSA eunuch is a man who has had his work cut out for him.
More Robert Burns Quotes
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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.
ROBERT BURNS -
Suspense is worst than disappointment.
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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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But facts are chiels that winna ding, An’ downa be disputed.
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When chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare.
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Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine, An’ fill it in a silver tassie.
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The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.
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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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There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.
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But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lou’d sae kindly, Had we never lou’d sae blindly, Never met – or never parted – We had ne’er been broken hearted.
ROBERT BURNS -
Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed.
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She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o’ mine.
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To make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife, That’s the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
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Some books are lies frae end to end.
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And O! be sure to fear the Lord alway, And mind your duty, duly, morn and night; Lest in temptation’s path ye gang astray, Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright.
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Ye Hypocrites, are these your pranks To murder men and gie God thanks Desist for shame, proceed no further God won’t accept your thanks for murder.
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The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.
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How wretched is the person who hangs on by the favors of the powerful.
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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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The best plans of men and mice often go awry.
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Oh would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as others see us!
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Here’s to us, who’s like us Damn few, and they’re all dead.
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Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever.
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Be Briton still to Britain true, Among oursel’s united; For never but by British hands Maun British wrangs be righted.
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The wide world is all before us – but a world without a friend.
ROBERT BURNS