O, love, love, love!
Love is like a dizziness;
It winna let a poor body
Gang about his biziness!
The daisy is fair, the day-lily rare, The bud o' the rose as sweet as it's bonnie.
Oh, why should vows so fondly made, Be broken ere the morrow, To one who loves as never maid Loved in this world of sorrow?
Man mind yoursel is the first commandment.
What is the life of a man more than the life of a lamb, or any guiltless animal?
That undefined and mingled hum, Voice of the desert never dumb!
Without the shepherd's dog, the whole of the open mountainous land in Scotland would not be worth a sixpence.
Nothing in the world delights a truly religious people so much as consigning them to eternal damnation.
A shepherd may be a very able, trusty, and good shepherd, without a sweetheart-better, perhaps, than with one. But what is he without his dog?
If a body could just find oot the exac' proper proportion and quantity that ought to be drunk every day, and keep to that, I verily trow that he might leeve for ever, without dying at a', and that doctors and kirkyards would og oot o' fashion.
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place O, to abide in the desert with thee!
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