Robert Burns Quotes

Scottish poet and lyricist (1759–1796)

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Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) was a poet and pioneer of the Romantic movement and after his death became an important source of inspiration to the founders of both liberalism and socialism. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland.

From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Also Known As: Bard of Ayrshire

Alternative Names: Robbie Burns • Rabbie Burns • Scotland's favorite son • Ploughman Poet • The Bard • National poet of Scotland • Robden of Solway Firth

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The heart benevolent and kind The most resembles God.

Some rhyme a neebor’s name to lash;
Some rhyme, (vain thought!) for needfu’ cash;
Some rhyme to court the countra clash,
An’ raise a din;
For me, an aim I never fash;
I rhyme for fun.

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. For a' that an a' that.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad.

He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God" he says, with solemn air.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my false luver straw my rose
But left the thorn wi' me.

Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O: Her prentice han' she tried on man, An' then she made the lasses, O.

Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow— Let us do or die!

The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley.
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

(To A Mouse)

The fear o’ hell’s a hangman’s whip to haud the wretch in order; But where ye feel your honor grip, let that aye be your border.

On ev'ry hand it will allowed be, He's just—nae better than he should be.

The golden Hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my Dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.

My love is like the red red rose
That's newly sprung in June
O my love's like the melody
That's newly played in tune

For a' that, and a' that An' twice as muckle 's a' that, I've lost but ane, I've twa behin', I've wife eneugh for a' that.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to Victorie! Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour! See approach proud Edward's power— Chains and slaverie!