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.

The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, read more

The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And all that thou hast done for me!

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.

I waive the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing:
But, och! it hardens a' within,
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I waive the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing:
But, och! it hardens a' within,
And petrifies the feeling!