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1 " In proving foresight may be vain:The best-laid schemes o' mice an' menGang aft agley,An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,For promis'd joy! "
― Robert Burns , Poems and Songs
2 " All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn."[Brigs of Ayr] "
3 " За старата любов - докрай !За миналите дни!Ти чаша нежност ми подайза миналите дни! "
4 " Even thou who mournst the daisies fate, that fate is thine. "
5 " Even tho who mournst the daisies fate, that fate is thine. "
6 " Unmatch'd at the bottle, unconquer'd in war, He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea; No tide of the Baltic e'er drunker than he. "
7 " The best laid schemes o'mice an' mengang aft agley, An'lea'e us nought but grief an'pain, For promis'd joy... "
8 " A gaudy dress and gentle air May slightly touch the heart; But it's innocence and modesty That polishes the dart. "
9 " Dear Sir, I'll gie ye some advice,You'll tak it no uncivil:You shouldna paint at angels, man,But try and paint the Devil.To paint an angel's kittle wark,Wi' Nick there's little danger;You'll easy draw a lang-kent face,But no sae weel a stranger. "
10 " Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here firm I rest; they must be best, Because they are Thy will! Then all I want—O do Thou grant This one request of mine!— Since to enjoy Thou dost deny, Assist me to resign. "
11 " Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,Gathering her brows like gathering storm,Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. "
12 " Fickle Fortune: A Fragment Though fickle Fortune has deceived me, She pormis'd fair and perform'd but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me, Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. I'll act with prudence as far 's I'm able, But if success I must never find, Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome, I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind. "
13 " Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper Here lies Johnie Pigeon; What was his religion? Whae'er desires to ken, To some other warl' Maun follow the carl, For here Johnie Pigeon had nane! Strong ale was ablution, Small beer persecution, A dram was memento mori; But a full-flowing bowl Was the saving his soul, And port was celestial glory. "
14 " Should the poor be flattered?—Shakespeare. "