Poetical works ... chronologically arranged, Том 11885 |
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Страница 13
... weary . THE LASS OF CESSNOCK BANKS . ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells ; Could I describe her shape and mien ; Our lasses a ' she far excels , An ' she has twa sparkling rogueish een . She's sweeter than the morning dawn , When rising ...
... weary . THE LASS OF CESSNOCK BANKS . ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells ; Could I describe her shape and mien ; Our lasses a ' she far excels , An ' she has twa sparkling rogueish een . She's sweeter than the morning dawn , When rising ...
Страница 17
... weary slave frae sun to sun , Could I the rich reward secure , The lovely Mary Morison . Yestreen , when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro ' the lighted ha ' , To thee my fancy took its wing , I sat , but neither heard nor saw ...
... weary slave frae sun to sun , Could I the rich reward secure , The lovely Mary Morison . Yestreen , when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro ' the lighted ha ' , To thee my fancy took its wing , I sat , but neither heard nor saw ...
Страница 20
... weary eyes from tears , Or close them fast in death ! But , if I must afflicted be , To suit some wise design ; Then man my soul with firm resolves , To bear and not repine ! PARAPHRASE OF THE FIRST PSALM . THE man , in life wherever ...
... weary eyes from tears , Or close them fast in death ! But , if I must afflicted be , To suit some wise design ; Then man my soul with firm resolves , To bear and not repine ! PARAPHRASE OF THE FIRST PSALM . THE man , in life wherever ...
Страница 27
... a match for Fortune fairly . Thus all obscure , unknown , and poor , thro ' life I'm doom'd to wander , Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber ; No view nor care , but shun whate'er might breed ÆT . 24. ] 27 Poems and Songs .
... a match for Fortune fairly . Thus all obscure , unknown , and poor , thro ' life I'm doom'd to wander , Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber ; No view nor care , but shun whate'er might breed ÆT . 24. ] 27 Poems and Songs .
Страница 37
... weary farmer ; And the moon shines bright , when I rove at night , To muse upon my charmer . The partridge loves the fruitful fells , The plover loves the mountains ; The woodcock haunts the lonely dells , The soaring hern the fountains ...
... weary farmer ; And the moon shines bright , when I rove at night , To muse upon my charmer . The partridge loves the fruitful fells , The plover loves the mountains ; The woodcock haunts the lonely dells , The soaring hern the fountains ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
Amang auld baith Ballochmyle bard blest bonie lass braw brunstane Burns canna cauld Cessnock charms dear death deil dinna e'en e'er EPISTLE Ev'n ev'ry fair faith Farewell fear Findlay frae Gavin Hamilton gies grace guid hae seen hame heart Heaven herds Highland holy honest honor ither Jean John Barleycorn Kilmarnock Kilmarnock volume kirk laird lassie Lord Mauchline maun mony Mossgiel muckle muse nae mair naething ne'er Netherplace never night o'er plough poem poet poet's poison'd poor pow'r pride rantin rhyme rigs ROBERT BURNS Scotland sing skelpin song stanza sweet taen Tarbolton tell thee thegither There's thou thro twa sparkling rogueish unco verse warl weary weel Whitefoord Whyles WILLIAM SIMSON Willie winna Ye'll ye're young
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Страница 125 - An' weary winter comin' fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, 'Till, crash ! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell. That wee bit heap o...
Страница 147 - 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 !* he says, with solemn air.
Страница 147 - Is there, in human form, that bears a heart, A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?
Страница 125 - The best laid schemes o mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promised joy. Still thou art blest, compared wi' me ! The present only toucheth thee : But, Och ! I backward cast my e'e On prospects drear ! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an
Страница 150 - Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd thro...
Страница 224 - 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 40 - An' tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. But gie me a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O ; An' warly cares, an' warly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O. For you sae douce, ye sneer at this, Ye're nought but senseless asses, O : The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O : Her 'prentice han' she try'd on man, An
Страница 151 - Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie, Clos'd under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cootie, To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An
Страница 66 - It's no in makin muckle, mair ; It's no in books, it's no in lear, To make us truly blest : If Happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest : Nae treasures nor pleasures Could make us happy lang ; The heart ay's the part ay That makes us right or wrang.
Страница 65 - Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods, The sweeping vales and foaming floods, Are free alike to all. In days when daisies deck the ground, And blackbirds whistle clear, With honest joy our hearts will bound, To see the coming year: On braes when we please, then, We'll sit an' sowth a tune; Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, And sing't when we hae done.