Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church
Fair maid, you need not take the hint,
Nor idle texts pursue:
'Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
Not Angels such as you.
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On James Grieve, Laird Of Boghead, Tarbolton. Epitaph
Here lies Boghead amang the dead
In hopes to get salvation;
But if such as he in Heav'n may be,
Then welcome, hail! damnation.
poem by Robert Burns (1784)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Epitaph for Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
The poor man weeps-here Gavin sleeps,
Whom canting wretches blam'd;
But with such as he, where'er he be,
May I be sav'd or damn'd!
poem by Robert Burns (1786)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Epigram on Parting with a Kind Host in the Highlands
When Death's dark stream I ferry o'er,
A time that surely shall come,
In Heav'n itself I'll ask no more,
Than just a Highland welcome.
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Epitaph for H - L -, Esq., of L -
Here lies Squire Hugh - ye harlot crew,
Come mak' your water on him,
I'm sure that he weel pleas'd would be
To think ye pish'd upon him.
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I pick my favourite quotations and store them in my mind as ready armour, offensive or defensive, amid the struggle of this turbulent existence.
quote by Robert Burns
Added by Lucian Velea
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Firmness in enduring and exertion is a character I always wish to possess. I have always despised the whining yelp of complaint and cowardly resolve.
quote by Robert Burns
Added by Lucian Velea
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Epitaph For Robert Aiken, Esq
Know thou, O stranger to the fame
Of this much lov'd, much honoured name!
(For none that knew him need be told)
A warmer heart Death ne'er made cold.
poem by Robert Burns (1786)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Apology for Declining an Invitation to Dine
No more of your guests, be they titled or not,
And cookery the first in the nation;
Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit,
Is proof to all other temptation.
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Altho' He Has Left Me
Altho' he has left me for greed o' the siller,
I dinna envy him the gains he can win;
I rather wad bear a' the lade o' my sorrow,
Than ever hae acted sae faithless to him.
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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