Robert Burns

"[A]ll the faculties of Burns' mind were, as far as I could judge, equally vigorous; and his predilection for poetry, was rather the result of his own enthusiastic and impassioned temper, than of a genius exclusively adapted to that species of composition. From his conversation, I should have pronounced him to be fitted to excel in whatever walk of ambition he had chosen to exert his abilities."

"This prophecy of the unity of the [human] race [in "A man's a man for a' that"] is founded on the thoroughly Scottish sentiment, fostered by Scottish history from the days of Wallace till our own times, of the value of man as man, of the dignity of labour, whether physical or mental or moral, as compared with the tinsel shows of privileged indolence. The scorn for the empty "birkie ca'd a lord," and for the king-made dignities unbacked by merit, have persistently remained as Scottish qualities all down the ages, and they are becoming the qualities of men wherever thought has filtered down to the humbler classes, wherever the peasant has learned to venerate himself as man."

"Dear Rob! manly, witty, fond, friendly, full of weak spots as well as strong ones—essential type of so many thousands—perhaps the average, as just said, of the decent-born young men and the early mid-aged, not only of the British Isles, but America, too, North and South, just the same. I think, indeed, one best part of Burns is the unquestionable proof he presents of the perennial existence among the laboring classes, especially farmers, of the finest latent poetic elements in their blood."

"Though I have never been able to trace my ancestry to the Land o' Cakes, I have—and I know it is saying a great deal—a Scotchman's love for the poet whose fame deepens and broadens with years. The world has never known a truer singer. We may criticise his rustic verse and compare his brief and simple lyrics with the works of men of longer scrolls and loftier lyres; but after rendering to Wordsworth, Tennyson and Browning the homage which the intellect owes to genius, we turn to Burns, if not with awe and reverence, [yet] with a feeling of personal interest and affection. We admire others; we love him. As the day of his birth comes round, I take down his well-worn volume in grateful commemoration, and feel that I am communing with one whom living I could have loved as much for his true manhood and native nobility of soul as for those wonderful songs of his which shall sing themselves forever."

"I would claim that Burns is not merely Scotland's greatest poet, but that he is worthy to rank among the greatest poets of the world... Why I claim this place for Burns is this—that he was the poet of nature and of humanity. He raised the conception of the peasant and gave honour and dignity to toil. It is for that reason that all the labouring classes and masses of the world have found in Burns their truest interpreter and their truest friend; and it is as that friend and as that interpreter that I do claim for him a place in the innermost niches of the temple of Fame."

"But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met—or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted."

"It was a' for our rightfu' King We left fair Scotland's strand."

"To make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife,— That is the true pathos and sublime Of human life."

"This day, Time winds th' exhausted chain, To run the twelvemonth's length again."

"The voice of Nature loudly cries, And many a message from the skies, That something in us never dies."

"Ay waukin, Oh, Waukin still and weary: Sleep I can get nane, For thinking on my Dearie."

"John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonny brow was brent."

"Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, An' fill it in a silver tassie."

"The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife, An' could na preach for thinkin' o't."

"It is the moon, I ken her horn, That's blinkin in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, But by my sooth she'll wait a wee!"

"Some have meat and cannot eat, Some cannot eat that want it: But we have meat and we can eat, Sae let the Lord be thankit."

"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.<!--"

"When Nature her great masterpiece designed, And framed her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the wondrous plan, She formed of various stuff the various Man."

"Suspense is worse than disappointment."

"While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things, The fate of empires and the fall of kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit some attention."

"She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a lo'esome wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine."

"The golden Hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my Dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary."

"But, oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early."

"There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels, There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man, But the ae best dance ere came to the Land Was, the deil's awa wi' the Exciseman."

"What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?"

"O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad: O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither should baith gae mad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad."

"O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad."

"If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede you tent it; A chield's aman you takin' notes, And faith he'll prent it."

"O Mary, at thy window be! It is the wished, the trysted hour."

"I've seen sae mony changefu' years, On earth I am a stranger grown: I wander in the ways of men, Alike unknowing and unknown."

"The wan moon sets behind the white wave, And time is setting with me, Oh."

"Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to Victorie! Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour! See approach proud Edward's power— Chains and slaverie!"

"Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow— Let us do or die!"

"The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that."

"Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that; Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that: For a' that, an' a' that, His ribband, star, an' a' that: The man o' independent mind He looks an' laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an' a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities an' a' that; The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, (As come it will for a' that,) That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree, an' a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, It's coming yet for a' that, That Man to Man, the world o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that."

"Drumossie moor — Drumossie day — A waefu' day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three."

"Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care, I gie them a skelp, as they're creeping alang, Wi' a cog o' gude swats and an auld Scottish sang."

"'Tis sweeter for thee despairing Than aught in the world beside,—Jessy!"

"O, saw ye bonnie Leslie As she gaed o’er the border? She’s gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her forever; For nature made her what she is, And ne’er made sic anither!"

"O, gie me the lass that has acres o' charms, O, gie me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms."

"Come, Firm Resolve, take thou the van, Thou stalk o' carl-hemp in man! And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan A lady fair; Wha does the utmost that he can, Will whyles do mair."

"Good Lord, what is man! for as simple he looks, Do but try to develop his hooks and his crooks, With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil, All in all he's a problem must puzzle the devil."

"Their sighan', cantan', grace-proud faces, Their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces."

"There's death in the cup-so beware!"

"Don't let the awkward squad fire over me."

"We labour soon, we labour late, To feed the titled knave, man; And a' the comfort we're to get, Is that ayont the grave, man."

"What's a' your jargon o' your schools, Your Latin names for horns and stools? If honest Nature made you fools What sairs your grammars? Ye'd better taen up spades and shools Or knappin hammers. Gie' me ae spark o' Nature's fire! That's a' the learning I desire: Then, tho' I drudge thro' dub and mire At plough or cart, My muse, though homely in attire, May touch the heart."

"Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi flichterin noise and glee."

"Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new."

"They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright."