* * * * *
_The Birth of Flattery_.
In idle wishes fools supinely stay;
Be there a will, then wisdom finds a way.
* * * * *
ROBERT BURNS.
1759-1796.
_Tom O'Shanter_.
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gather in' her brows like gatherin' storm,
Nursin' her wrath to keep it warm.
* * * * *
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
* * * * *
But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white, then melts for ever.
As Tammie gloured, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
_To a Mouse_.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley;
An' lea'e us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy.
* * * * *
_Scots wha hae_.
Let us do, or die!
* * * * *
_Address to the Unco Guid_.
Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler, sister woman;
Though they may gang a kennin' wrang
To step aside is human.
* * * * *
_On Captain Grose's Peregrinations through Scotland_.
If there's a hole in a' your coats,
I rede you tent it;
A chiel's amang you takin' notes,
An', faith, he'll prent it.
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