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Now Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o'daisies white Out o'er the grassy lea.

Robert Burns

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Robert Burns
Age: 37 †
Born: 1759
Born: January 25
Died: 1796
Died: July 21
Farmer
Musicologist
Poet
Songwriter
Writer
Robbie Burns
Rabbie Burns
Scotland's favourite son
Ploughman Poet
Robden of Solway Firth
Bard of Ayrshire
The Bard
Robert Burns
Sheets
Spread
Grassy
Green
Mantle
Spring
Blooming
Tree
Daisies
White
Spreads
Nature
Hangs
Every
Springtime

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O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
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They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!
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An honest man here lies at rest, the friend of man the friend of truth the friend of age and guide of youth. Few hearts like his with virtue warmed, few heads with knowledge so informed. If there's another world, he lives in bliss. If there is none, he made the best of this.
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Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .
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The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.
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Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire.
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When 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.
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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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For gold the merchant ploughs the main, The farmer ploughs the manor.
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Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now 's the day and now 's the hour See the front o' battle lour.
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Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.
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Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?
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The upright, honest-hearted man Who strives to do the best he can, Need never fear the church's ban Or hell's damnation.
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Just now I've taen the fit o' rhyme / My barmie noddle's working prime.
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Oh would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as others see us!
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Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing, fond complaining.
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For thus the royal mandate ran, When first the human race began, The social, friendly honest man, Whate'er he be, Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan, And none but he!
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Such is the fate of simple Bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd
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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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Mankind is an unco squad And muckle he may grieve thee.
Robert Burns