Some wee short hours ayont the twal.
Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)
Source: Death and Dr. Hornbook.
Contributed by: Zaady
May coward shame distain his name, The wretch that dares not die!
Source: Macpherson's Farewell
That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane.
Source: Tam o' Shanter.
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel 's the new.
Source: The Cotter's Saturday Night.
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither,- They had been fou for weeks thegither.
And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.
Source: The Vision.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft a-gley; An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain For promis'd joy.
Source: To a Mouse.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
Source: Sweet Sensibility.
But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white, then melts for ever.
Source: Tam o' Shanter
The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man 's the gowd for a' that.
Source: For a' that an a' that.
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