Maxioms by Robert Burns
Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
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Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
In scented bowers!
Ye roses on your thorny tree
The first o' flow'rs.
When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare.
When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare.
Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, read more
Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant read more
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant wee-things, toddling, stacher thro'
To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee.
