The Works of Robert Burns: With His Life, Том 2Cochrane and M'Crone, 1834 - 394 страница |
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... . So may they , like their great forbears , For monie a year come thro ' the sheers : So wives will gie them bits o ' bread , An ' bairns greet for them when they're dead . 66 My poor toop - lamb , my son an 10 THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS .
... . So may they , like their great forbears , For monie a year come thro ' the sheers : So wives will gie them bits o ' bread , An ' bairns greet for them when they're dead . 66 My poor toop - lamb , my son an 10 THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS .
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... him burn this cursed tether , An ' , for thy pains , thou'se get my blether . " This said , poor Mailie turn'd her head , And clos'd her een amang the dead . The field and the ditch where Mailie met with her THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS . 11.
... him burn this cursed tether , An ' , for thy pains , thou'se get my blether . " This said , poor Mailie turn'd her head , And clos'd her een amang the dead . The field and the ditch where Mailie met with her THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS . 11.
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... dead ! It's no the loss o ' warl's gear , That could sae bitter draw the tear , Or mak our bardie , dowie , wear The mourning weed : He's lost a friend and neebor dear , In Mailie dead . Thro ' a ' the toun she trotted by him ; A lang ...
... dead ! It's no the loss o ' warl's gear , That could sae bitter draw the tear , Or mak our bardie , dowie , wear The mourning weed : He's lost a friend and neebor dear , In Mailie dead . Thro ' a ' the toun she trotted by him ; A lang ...
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... dead . Or , if he wanders up the howe , Her living image in her yowe , Comes bleating to him , owre the knowe , For bits o ' bread ; An ' down the briny pearls rowe For Mailie dead . She was nae get o ' moorland tips , Wi ' tawted ket ...
... dead . Or , if he wanders up the howe , Her living image in her yowe , Comes bleating to him , owre the knowe , For bits o ' bread ; An ' down the briny pearls rowe For Mailie dead . She was nae get o ' moorland tips , Wi ' tawted ket ...
Страница 15
... dead . " Poor Mailie's Elegy " is a later production somewhat than “ The Death and Dying Words . " It is freer in language and bolder in expression , and more like the vigorous offspring of Mossgiel than the progeny of Lochlea . He ...
... dead . " Poor Mailie's Elegy " is a later production somewhat than “ The Death and Dying Words . " It is freer in language and bolder in expression , and more like the vigorous offspring of Mossgiel than the progeny of Lochlea . He ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
Aiken aith amang ance auld baith bard blate blest bonnie bonnie lasses braw brunstane Burns canna cauld chiel dear deil dinna e'en e'er epistle Ev'n ev'ry fair faith frae gaun Gavin Hamilton gien gies grace gude guid Halloween hame Hamilton haud hear heart heaven holy honest honour humble ither John Highlandman Kilmarnock laird lasses Mailie Mauchline maun monie Mossgiel mourn muckle muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never night o'er out-owre owre owre the sea pleasure plough poem Poet Poet's poetic poison'd poor pow'r rhyme ROBERT BURNS rustic Samson's dead says Scotland sing skelpin song sweet ta'en Tarbolton tell thee thegither There's thou thought thro tune unco verse weary weel whare Whyles Willie winna Ye'll ye're
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Страница 278 - O, wad some Power the giftie gie us to see oursels as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us an' foolish notion: what airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, and ev'n Devotion!
Страница 257 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing' That thus they all shall meet in future days: There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Страница 255 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page; How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.
Страница 146 - Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain. These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art.
Страница 267 - WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Страница 228 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Страница 255 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Страница 258 - And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!
Страница 338 - I've notic'd, on our Laird's court-day, An' mony a time my heart's been wae, Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash, How they maun thole a factor's snash : He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear. He'll apprehend them, poind their gear ; While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble ! I see how folk live that hae riches ; But surely poor folk maun be wretches.
Страница 175 - A set o' dull conceited hashes Confuse their brains in college classes ! They gang in stirks, and come out asses, Plain truth to speak; An' syne they think to climb Parnassus By dint o