Robert Burns

“I am little acquainted with politeness, but I know a good deal of benevolence of temper and goodness of heart.”

“Wha Is That At My Bower-Door1783Wha is that at my bower-door?O wha is it but Findlay! Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here: Indeed maun I, quo' Findlay; What mak' ye, sae like a thief? O come and see, quo' Findlay; Before the morn ye'll work mischief: Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. Gif I rise and let you in- Let me in, quo' Findlay; Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;"Indeed will I, quo' Findlay; In my bower if ye should stay- Let me stay, quo' Findlay; I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. Here this night if ye remain- I'll remain, quo' Findlay; I dread ye'll learn the gate again; Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. What may pass within this bower- Let it pass, quo' Findlay; Ye maun conceal till your last hour:Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.”

“My heart is sair-I dare na tell,My heart is sair for Somebody.”

“O wad some Power the giftie gie usTo see oursels as ithers see us!”

“Till crash! the cruel coulter pastOut thro' thy cell.”

“Oh the gift that God could give us, to see ourselves as others see us.”

“In proving foresight may be vain:The best-laid schemes o' mice an' menGang aft agley,An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,For promis'd joy!”

“Oh would some power the giftie gie us, To see ourselves as others see us.”

“There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.”

“But deep this truth impress'd my mind: Thro' all His works abroad,The heart benevolent and kindThe most resembles God.”

“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.”

“Critics! Appalled I ventured on the name.Those cutthroat bandits in the paths of fame.”

“While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things,The fate of empires and the fall of kings;While quacks of State must each produce his plan,And even children lisp the Rights of Man;Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,The Rights of Woman merit some attention.”

“The best-laid schemes o' mice an' menGang aft agley,An' lea'e us naught but grief an' painFor promised joy!Still thou art blest, compared wi' me!The present only toucheth thee:”

“My Heart's In The HighlandsFarewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Chorus.-My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go. Farewell to the mountains, high-cover'd with snow, Farewell to the straths and green vallies below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods, Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, &c.”

“Before the morn ye'll work mischief:''Indeed will I,'' quo' Findlay.-Ти май си нещо наумил. -Май нещо - каза Финдли.”

“Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.--Robert Burns”

“Not the bee upon the blossom,In the pride o' sunny noon;Not the little sporting fairy,All beneath the simmer moon;Not the poet, in the momentFancy lightens in his e'e,Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture,That thy presence gi'es to me.”

“Flow gently, sweet Afton,amang thy green braes,Flow gently, I'll sing theea song in thy praise;My Mary's asleepby thy murmuring stream,Flow gently, sweet Afton,disturb not her dream.Thou stock dove whose echoresounds thro' the glen,Ye wild whistly blackbirdsin yon thorny den,Thou green crested lapwingthy screaming forbear,I charge you, disturb notmy slumbering fair.How lofty, sweet Afton,thy neighboring hills,Far mark'd with the coursesof clear winding rills;There daily I wanderas noon rises high,My flocks and my Mary'ssweet cot in my eye.How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where, wild in the woodlands,the primroses blow;There oft, as mild eveningweeps over the lea,The sweet-scented birk shadesmy Mary and me.Thy crystal stream, Afton,how lovely it glides,And winds by the cot wheremy Mary resides;How wanton thy watersher snowy feet lave,As, gathering sweet flowerets,she stems thy clear wave.Flow gently, sweet Afton,amang thy green braes,Flow gently, sweet river,the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleepby thy murmuring stream,Flow gently, sweet Afton,disturb not her dreams.”

“And man, whose heav'n-erected face The smiles of love adornMan's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!”

“Hope Springs Exulting on Triumphant Wing.”

“But little Mouse, you are not alone,In proving foresight may be vain:The best laid schemes of mice and menGo often askew,And leave us nothing but grief and pain,For promised joy!Still you are blest, compared with me!”

“Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,O, what a panic's in thy breastie! ”

“Had we never lov'd sae kindly,Had we never lov'd sae blindly,Never met -- or never parted --we had ne'er been broken-hearted”

“O, wad some Power the giftie gie usTo see oursels as others see us!It wad frae monie a blunder free us,An' foolish notion.”

“By Oppression's woes and pains!By your sons in servile chains!We will drain our dearest veins,But they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low!Tyrants fall in every foe!Liberty's in every blow!Let us do or die!”

“My love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: My love is like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. How fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I; And I will love thee still, my dear, Till all the seas gang dry. Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt with the sun;I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands of life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only love. And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my love, Though it were ten thousand mile.”

“Ye Hypocrites, are these your pranksTo murder men and gie God thanksDesist for shame, proceed no furtherGod won't accept your thanks for murder.”

“Let them cant about decorum, who have characters to lose! ”

“Gin a body meet a bodyComing thro' the rye,Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?”

“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”

“Then gently scan your brotherman,still gentler sister woman, though they may ganga kennin wrang, to step aside is human”

“But to see her was to love her,Love but her, and love forever.”

“The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley.”

“Some hae meat and canna eat,And some wad eat that want it,But we hae meat and we can eat,And sae the Lord be thankit.”

“The great Creator to revereMust sure become the creature;But still the preaching cant forbear,And ev'n the rigid feature:Yet ne'er with wits profane to rangeBe complaisance extended;An atheist laugh's a poor exchangeFor deity offended.”

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.”