Robert Burns
Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) (also known as Robbie Burns, Rabbie Burns, Scotland's favourite son, the Ploughman Poet, Robden of Solway Firth, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as The Bard) was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language, although much of his writing is also in English and a light Scots dialect, accessible to an audience beyond Scotland. He also wrote in standard English, and in these his political or civil commentary is often at its bluntest.
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Some articles on Robert Burns:
... To his right another infantryman (depicting Robert Russell Bennett, a 107 combat veteran who was asked by the artist to model for the statue along with 6 other actual 107 veterans of the Somme) rushes towards ... Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns are sculpted in bronze by Sir John Steell, the eminent Victorian sculptor ... It was the first statue of Robert Burns to be erected outside Scotland and was a gift to the City of New York from Saint Andrew's Society of the State of New ...
... Robert Burns writes of a trysting thorn tree (see below) at the Mill of Mannoch at Coylton in South Ayrshire ... The National Burns Collection holds a cross section of thorn wood from a tree which grew at the Mill of Mannoch, Coylton, Ayrshire which was said to be Robert Burns' "trysting thorn", a romantic meeting place ... I pass'd the mill and trysting thorn, Where Nancy aft I courted" From Burns' poem "The Soldier's Return" ...
... Poetry portal Robert Burns' diamond point engravings A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle Drukken Steps – A Burns site in Irvine Homecoming Scotland 2009 Nelly ...
... Robert Burns's bronze statue, 1892, by Henry Bain Smith, on Union Terrace. ...
Famous quotes containing the words robert burns and/or burns:
“The honest man, though e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men, for a’ that!”
—Robert Burns (1759–1796)
“Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunn’d by saunt an’ sinner,
How dare ye set your fit upon her,
Sae fine a lady!”
—Robert Burns (1759–1796)