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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.

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
Fool
Teaching
Honest
Stools
Names
Jargon
Nature
Horns
School
Fools
Made
Latin
Schools

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Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire.
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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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An atheist's laugh 's a poor exchange For Deity offended!
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How wretched is the person who hangs on by the favors of the powerful.
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Just now I've taen the fit o' rhyme / My barmie noddle's working prime.
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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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Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us
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O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
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Yon rosebuds in the morning-dew, how pure amang the leaves sae green!
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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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I look on the opposite sex with something like the admiration with which I regard the starry sky on a frosty December night. I admire the beauty of the Creator's workmanship, I am charmed with the wild but graceful eccentricity of the motions, and then I wish both of them goodnight.
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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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Here's to us, who's like us Damn few, and they're all dead.
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Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
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But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.
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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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The wide world is all before us - but a world without a friend.
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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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The best laid plans take 40 years to complete.
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