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ROBERT BURNS
Scottish poet
(1759 - 1796)
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Facts are cheels that winna ding,
  An' downs be disputed.
      - A Dream [Opinion]

O, my Luve is like a red, red rose,
  That's newly sprung in June.
    O, my Luve is like the melodie,
      That's sweetly played in tune.
      - A Red, Red Rose [Love]

Thy daughters bright thy walks adorn,
  Gay as the gilded summer sky,
    Sweet as the dewy milk-white thorn,
      Dear as the raptured thrill of joy.
      - Address to Edinburgh [Women]

My curse upon thy venom'd stang,
  That shoots my tortured gums alang;
    And through my lugs gies monie a twang,
      Wi' gnawing vengeance,
        Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,
          Like racking engines!
      - Address to the Toothache [Dentistry]

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
  Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
    A hapless lover courts thy lay,
      Thy soothing, fond complaining.
      - Address to the Woodlark [Larks]

Then gently scan your brother man,
  Still gentler sister woman;
    Though they may gang a' kennin' wrang
      To step aside is human.
      - Address to Unco Guid [Liberality : Proverbs]

What's done we partly may compute,
  But know not what's resisted.
      - Address to Unco Guild (st. 8)
        [Action : Temptation]

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
  And never brought to mind?
    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
      And days o' lang syne?
      - Auld Lang Syne,
        Burns refers to these words as an old folk song
        [Friendship]

We twa hae run about the braes,
  And pu'd the gowans fine.
      - Auld Lang Syne [Friends]

Let us do or die.
      - Bannockburn [Action]

To see her is to love her,
  And love but her forever;
    For nature made her what she is,
      And never made anither!
      - Bonny Lesley [Love]

To liken them to your auld-warld squad,
  I must needs say comparisons are odd.
      - Brigs of Ayr (l. 177) [Comparison]

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
  Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
      - Brigs of Ayr (l. 221) [Autumn]

Liberty's in every blow!
  Let us do or die.
      - Bruce to His Men at Bannockburn [Liberty]

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled;
  Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
    Welcome to you gory bed,
      Or to victory!
      - Bruce to His Men at Bannockburn [War]

The hawthorn-trees blow in the dew of the morning.
      - Chevalier's Lament [Hawthorn]

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.
      - Contented wi' Little [Contentment]

Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing.
      - Cotter's Saturday Night (st. 16) [Hope]

My dear, my native soil!
  For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
    Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
      Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
      - Cotter's Saturday Night (st. 20)
        [Love of Country]

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!
  For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent;
    Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
      Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content.
      - Cotter's Saturday Night (st. 20)
        [Scotland]

Some books are lies frae end to end.
      - Death and Dr. Hornbook [Books]

Some wee short hour ayont the twal.
      - Death and Mr. Hornbook [Time]

O Life! thou art a galling load,
  Along a rough, a weary road,
    To wretches such as I!
      - Despondency [Life]

Be Briton still to Britain true,
  Among oursel's united;
    For never but by British hands
      Maun British wrangs be righted.
      - Dumfries Volunteers [Patriotism]

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
  Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
    On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
        Maggie coost her head fu' high,
          Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
            Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
              Ha, ha! the wooing o't!
      - Duncan Gray [Wooing]


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