Robert Burns

“ The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O.
The warly race may riches chase,
An’ riches still may flee them, O;
An‘ tho‘ at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow, &c. ”

“ Tho’ women's minds like winter winds,
⁠May shift and turn and a' that,
The noblest breast adores them maist,
⁠A consequence I draw that.
⁠For a‘ that and a' that,
⁠And twice as meikle’s a‘ that,
⁠The bonny lass that I loe best
⁠She‘ll be my ain fer a‘ that.
Great love I bear to all the fair,
⁠Their humble slave and a‘ that ”

“ Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed
⁠To see me thro' the barley.
⁠O corm rigs, an' barley rigs,
⁠An' corn rigs are bonnie:
⁠I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
⁠Amang the rigs wi' Annie.
The sky was blue, the wind was still,
⁠The moon Was shining clearly ”