January 25, 2009 marks the 250th birthday of Scotland's national poet, Robert Burns. While not a man with a godly reputation, he was a gifted writer. Earlier, I posted my favorite of his poems,
The Cotter's Saturday Night. Now, as a further tribute to his memory, with a glass raised high (skipping the haggis), here are a few more lines worth recalling from his skilled hand.
The Solemn League and Covenant The Solemn League and Covenant
Now brings a smile, now brings a tear;
But sacred Freedom, too, was theirs:
If thou'rt a slave, indulge thy sneer.
Epistle to James Tennant of Glenconner:
My shins, my lane, I there sit roastin’,
Perusing [John] Bunyan, [John] Brown [of Haddington], an’ [Thomas] Boston,
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