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To liken them to your auld-warld
squad, I must needs say comparisons are odd.
Source: Brigs of Ayr
Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.
Source: Contented wi' Little
I'll be merry and free, I'll be sad for naebody; If naebody
cares for me, I'll care for naebody.
Source: Naebody
Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain.
Source: It Was a' for our Rightfu' King
Now blooms the lily by the bank, The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen, The milk white is the
slae.
Source: Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots
Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!
Source: Unknown
There's some are fou o' love divine, There's some are fou'
o' brandy.
Source: The Holy Fair
Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make
us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquebae,
we'll face the devil!
Source: Tam o' Shanter
The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets
bathe in the wet o' the morn.
Source: My Nanny's Awa
The fear o' hell's the hangman's whip To laud the wretch in
order; But where ye feel your honor grip, Let that aye be
your border.
Source: Epistle to a Young Friend
Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea; Ye stately foxgloves
fair to see! Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie In scented
bowers! Ye roses on your thorny tree The first o' flow'rs.
Source: Elegy on Capt. Matthew Henderson
At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the
shelter of an aged tree; Th' expectant wee-things, toddling,
stacher thro' To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an'
glee.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to
mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang
syne?
Source: Auld Lang Syne, Burns refers to these words as an
old folk song
Comin' through the rye, poor body, Comin' through the rye,
She draigl't a' her petticoatie, Comin' through the rye . .
. . Gin a body meet a body Comin' through the rye, Gin a
body kiss a body Need a body cry?
Source: The Bob-tailed Lass, taken from an old song
Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the
trembling spray, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy
soothing, fond complaining.
Source: Address to the Woodlark
The landlord's laugh was ready chorus.
Source: Tam o' Shanter
Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister
woman; Though they may gang a' kennin' wrang To step aside
is human.
Source: Address to Unco Guid
Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.
Source: Bruce to His Men at Bannockburn
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