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To make three guineas do the work of five.

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
Guineas
Guinea
Economy
Five
Three
Work
Make

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Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.
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Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .
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Why has a religious turn of mind always a tendency to narrow and harden the heart?
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Suspense is worst than disappointment.
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They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!
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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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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.
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The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.
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That hour o' night's black arch the keystane.
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Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing.
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The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
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Suspense is worse than disappointment.
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Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
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Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.
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For gold the merchant ploughs the main, The farmer ploughs the manor.
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My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.
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The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
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Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire.
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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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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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