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Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet To think how monie counsels sweet, How monie lengthened sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises.

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
Advice
Counsels
Sweet
Despises
Wife
Dames
Think
Greet
Thinking
Sage
Despise
Gentle
Husband
Lengthened

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Learn taciturnity and let that be your motto!
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Such is the fate of simple Bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd
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They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!
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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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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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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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Affliction's sons are brothers in distress A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!
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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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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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Why has a religious turn of mind always a tendency to narrow and harden the heart?
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But deep this truth impressed my mind — Thro' all his works abroad, The heart benevolent and kind The most resembles God.
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And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan A lady fair. Wha does the utmost that he can Will whyles do mair.
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God knows, I'm not the thing I should be, Nor am I even the thing I could be, But twenty times I rather would be An atheist clean, Than under gospel colours hid be Just for a screen.
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