Maxioms by Robert Burns
My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy read more
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!
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.
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
