Quote

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.

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
Pain
Mice
Best
Promised
Men
Schemes
Laid
Disappointment
Grief
Leave
Nought
Joy
Gang

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The great Creator to revere Must sure become the creature But still the preaching cant forbear, And ev'n the rigid feature: Yet ne'er with wits profane to range Be complaisance extendedAn atheist laugh's a poor exchange For deity offended.
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To see her is to love her, And love but her forever For nature made her what she is, And never made anither!
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And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
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Firmness in enduring and exertion is a character I always wish to possess. I have always despised the whining yelp of complaint and cowardly resolve.
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Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing.
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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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When matters are desperate we must put on a desperate face.
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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.
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The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
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Why has a religious turn of mind always a tendency to narrow and harden the heart?
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See Social-life and Glee sit down, All joyous and unthinking, Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown Debauchery and Drinking
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The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.
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O, my luve is like a red, red rose.
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All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
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God knows, I'm no the thing I should be, Nor am I even the thing I could be.
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Good Lord, what is man! for as simple he looks, Do but try to develop his books and his crooks, With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil, All in all, he's a problem must puzzle the devil.
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Suspense is worst than disappointment.
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Nature's law, That man was made to mourn. Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn! O Death, the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best!
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Once upon a Lammas Night When corn rigs are bonny, Beneath the Moon's unclouded light, I held awhile to Annie... The time went by with careless heed Between the late and early, With small persuasion she agreed To see me through the barley... Corn rigs and barley rigs, Corn rigs are bonny! I'll not forget that happy night Among the rigs with Annie!
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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
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