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Inspiring bold JohnBarleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil!
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
Face
Whiskey
Faces
Dangers
Make
Scorn
Bold
Thou
Inspiring
Devil
Danger
Canst
More quotes by Robert Burns
The best plans of men and mice often go awry.
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Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit.
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Yon rosebuds in the morning-dew, how pure amang the leaves sae green!
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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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The heart that is generous and kind most resembles God.
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When matters are desperate we must put on a desperate face.
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O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent
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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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To make three guineas do the work of five.
Robert Burns
See Social-life and Glee sit down, All joyous and unthinking, Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown Debauchery and Drinking
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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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Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear.
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Oh would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as others see us!
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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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What's a' your jargon o' your schools, Your Latin names for horns and stools If honest nature made you fools.
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I'm truly sorry man's dominion has broken Nature's social union.
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The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
Robert Burns
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
Robert Burns
Learn taciturnity and let that be your motto!
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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.
Robert Burns