There is something so mean and unmanly in the arts of dissimulation and falsehood that I am surprised they can be used… — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
In durance vile 1here must I wake and weep, And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep. — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
Your lines, I maintain it, are poetry, and good poetry.... Friendship... had I been so blest as to have met with you… — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn. — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
Oh my luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; Oh my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep'd in the morning dews. — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry? — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
“O wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us!” — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
“All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn." [ Brigs of Ayr ]” — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
