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.
ROBERT BURNSYour 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.
ROBERT BURNSYe 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.
ROBERT BURNSA mind that is conscious of its integrity scorns to say more than it means to perform.
ROBERT BURNSTo make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife, That’s the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
ROBERT BURNSWhen Nature her great masterpiece designed,And framed her last, best work, the human mind,Her eye intent on all the wondrous plan,She formed of various stuff the various Man.
ROBERT BURNSGie me ae spark o’ Nature’s fire, That’s a’ the learning I desire.
ROBERT BURNSThe best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.
ROBERT BURNSBeauty’s of a fading nature. Has a season and is gone!
ROBERT BURNSSuspicion is a heavy armor and with its weight it impedes more than it protects.
ROBERT BURNSA women can make an average man great, and a great man average.
ROBERT BURNSWhen chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare.
ROBERT BURNSIf there’s another world, he lives in bliss; if there is none, he made the best of this.
ROBERT BURNSI look on the opposite sex with something like the admiration with which I regard the starry sky on a frosty December night. I admire the beauty of the Creator’s workmanship, I am charmed with the wild but graceful eccentricity of the motions, and then I wish both of them goodnight.
ROBERT BURNSMy heart ‘s in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart ‘s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
ROBERT BURNSMy 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 BURNSThe wisest man the warl’ e’er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
ROBERT BURNS