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On this day in 1796 Scottish poet Robert Burns died at the age of 37.

Burns is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. A pioneer of the Romantic movement, after his death he became a great source of inspiration to the founders of both liberalism and socialism, and a cultural icon in Scotland and among the Scottish Diaspora around the world. Born in a humble cottage in Ayrshire, he worked in the Customs Service, travelling throughout Scotland and proving once again that great poets can often have mundane day jobs (Philip Larkin was a librarian, T S Eliot worked in a bank, etc.).

Today’s quote comes from one of his favourite songs, that was originally a bawdy folk song but which Burns rewrote as a tender expression of simple love and friendship:

John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bony brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my Jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill the gither;
And mony a canty day, John,
We’ve had wi’ ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we’ll go;
And sleep the gither at the foot,
John Anderson my Jo.

Today I ask that I will be grateful for the good and simple things in life.