Quotes by Robert Burns
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John Barleycorn got up again, And sore surprised them all. |
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But, oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early. |
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Stern Ruin's plowshare drives elate, Full on thy bloom. |
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An atheist-laugh's a poor exchange For Deity offended. |
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Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min'? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' auld lang syne? |
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If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede you tent it; A chield's aman you takin' notes, And faith he'll prent it. |
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On ev'ry hand it will allowed be, He's just-nae better than he should be. |
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The heart benevolent and kind The most resembles God. |
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He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God" he says, with solemn air. |
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This day, Time winds th' exhausted chain, To run the twelvemonth's length again. |
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| Suspense is worse than disappointment. |
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The voice of Nature loudly cries, And many a message from the skies, That something in us never dies. |
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For a' that and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man the world o'er Shall brothers be for a' that. |
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She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a lo'esome wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine. |
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O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad. |
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Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow- Let us do or die! |
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The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. For a' that an a' that. |
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Nature's law, That man was made to mourn. |
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The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft a-gley; And leave us naught but grief and pain For promised joy. |
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Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O: Her prentice han' she tried on man, An' then she made the lasses, O. |
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Beauty's of a fading nature Has a season and is gone! |
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O Mary, at thy window be! It is the wished, the trysted hour. |
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Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven. |
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It's hardly in a body's pow'r, To keep, at times, frae being sour. |
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An' there began a lang digression About the lords o' the creation. |
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Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend Are spent among the lasses, O. |
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I'm truly sorry man's dominion Has broken Nature's social union. |
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Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human. |
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Perhaps it may turn out a sang, Perhaps turn out a sermon. |
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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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'''For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne!''' |
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Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn. Man was made to Mourn. |
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If naebody care for me, I'll care for naebody. |
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There's nought but care on ev'ry han', In every hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o' man, An' then she made the lasses, O. |
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I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing: But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling! |
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| Some books are lies frae end to end. |
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The social, friendly, honest man, Whate'er he be, 'Tis he fulfills great Nature's plan, And none but he! |
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His locked, lettered, braw brass collar Showed him the gentleman an' scholar. |
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