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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
Collars
Brass
Scholar
Locked
Gentleman
Shewed
Lettered
Apparel
Collar

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They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!
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The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley.
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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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The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
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Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.
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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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Humid seal of soft affections, Tend'rest pledge of future bliss, Dearest tie of young connections, Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.
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As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
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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 best plans of men and mice often go awry.
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If naebody care for me,I'll care for naebody.
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Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.
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Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
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Affliction's sons are brothers in distress A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!
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Inspiring bold JohnBarleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil!
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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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That hour o' night's black arch the keystane.
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Mankind is a science that defies definitions.
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Some rhyme a neebor's name to lash Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu' cash Some rhyme to court the countra clash, An' raise a din For me, an aim I never fash I rhyme for fun.
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My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.
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