Maxioms by Robert Burns
Morality, thou deadly bane,Thy tens o' thousands thou has slain!
Morality, thou deadly bane,Thy tens o' thousands thou has slain!
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of wo.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of wo.
He wakes a portion with judicious care;
And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.
He wakes a portion with judicious care;
And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.
Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.
Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony,
Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither--
They had been fou for read more
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony,
Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither--
They had been fou for weeks thegither!
