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His locked, lettered, braw brass collar, Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.

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
Scholar
Locked
Gentleman
Shewed
Lettered
Apparel
Collar
Collars
Brass

More quotes by Robert Burns

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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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Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?
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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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Why has a religious turn of mind always a tendency to narrow and harden the heart?
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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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Mankind is an unco squad And muckle he may grieve thee.
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They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!
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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 moment Fancy lightens in his e'e, Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, That thy presence gi'es to me.
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What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
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Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.
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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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Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.
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Nae man can tether time or tide The hour approachesTam maun ride That hour, o'night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hourTam mounts his beast in.
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All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
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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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Auld Nature swears the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O!
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I'll be merry and free, I'll be sad for nae-body If nae-body cares for me, I'll care for nae-body.
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And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
Robert Burns
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For gold the merchant ploughs the main, The farmer ploughs the manor.
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Here's to us, who's like us Damn few, and they're all dead.
Robert Burns