Maxioms by Robert Burns
Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in read more
Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in a' your coats,
I rede you tent it:
A chield's amang you takin notes,
And, faith, he'll prent it.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
read more
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent.
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.
It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
It's guid to read more
It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
It's guid to support Caledonia's cause,
And bide by the buff and the blue!
