Tag Archive for: By ROBERT BURNS.

Bonny Doon.

Bonny Doon. ROBERT BURNS. 422.5 Ye banks and braes of bonny Doun, How can ye bloom sa fresh and fair? How can ye chaunt ye little birds, Wille I'm no wae and full o' care? Ye'll break my heart, ye little birds, That wander through that…
timelesspoem

A MAN’S A MAN FOR A’ THAT.

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT. Robert Burns. 480.8 Is there for honest poverty That hangs his head, and a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, Our toils obscure, and a' that: The…