Burns seems to have been a hopeless romantic. He ended up with many soulmates and many children and therefore many poems and songs about the splinters of his heart. His life is like a love story, and then another, and another. The question is, what came first, the poet or the lover?
Here's just one of many such verses. I like this one because it's supposedly about someone he didn't even have a relationship with--he just appreciated her beauty in passing:
Her Flowing Locks
Her flowing locks, the raven's wing,
Adown her neck and bosom hing;
How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her!
Her lips are roses wat wi' dew,
O, what a feast her bonnie mou'!
Her cheeks a mair celestial hue,
A crimson still diviner.
But he was more than just a ladies' man. For more about where and when this romantic came from, see the short video below from www.scotland.org:
