Maxioms by Robert Burns
There's some are fou o' love divine,
There's some are fou' o' brandy.
There's some are fou o' love divine,
There's some are fou' o' brandy.
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
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.
Facts are cheels that winna ding,
An' downs be disputed.
Facts are cheels that winna ding,
An' downs be disputed.
