This year it's the 250th anniversary of Scottish poet Robert Burns' birth so I thought I'd share an extract from my favourite poem of his named "Tam O' Shanter".
"But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white-then melts for ever."
"But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white-then melts for ever."
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