Quote

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.

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
Front
Wallace
Battle
Scots
Hours
Bruce
Welcome
Bed
Hour
Gory
Fronts
Wham
Victory
Bled

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The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.
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Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
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My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here My heart 's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
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Beauty's of a fading nature. Has a season and is gone!
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And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
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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.
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Suspense is worse than disappointment.
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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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Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep'd in the morning dews.
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I'm truly sorry man's dominion has broken Nature's social union.
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On Earth, Discord! A gloomy Heaven above, opening her jealous gates to the nineteen thousandth part of the tithe of mankind! And below, an inescapable & inexorable Hell, expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of Mortals!
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Life is but a day at most.
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