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Robert Burns
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The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o’ the morn.
Robert Burns
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Robert Burns
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Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
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There is nothing in the whole frame of man which seems to me so unaccountable as that thing called conscience.
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May 26, 2024
There is nothing in the whole frame of man which seems to me so unaccountable as that thing called conscience.
Previous
May 26, 2024
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
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