Burns in English: Select Poems of Robert BurnsA. Corbett, 1892 - 112 страница |
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Страница iv
... Lang Syne 107 There Was a Lad Was Born in Kyle 107 John Anderson , My Jo 108 • Tom Glen . O why should Honest Poverty To Mary in Heaven . Ae Fond Kiss 108 109 III 112 INTRODUCTION . That the dialect poems of Burns are not iv INDEX .
... Lang Syne 107 There Was a Lad Was Born in Kyle 107 John Anderson , My Jo 108 • Tom Glen . O why should Honest Poverty To Mary in Heaven . Ae Fond Kiss 108 109 III 112 INTRODUCTION . That the dialect poems of Burns are not iv INDEX .
Страница 2
... honest , handsome , white - streaked face Soon found him friends in ev'ry place . His breast was white , his shaggy back Well clad in coat of glossy black , His ample tail , with upward curl , Hung o'er his haunches with a swirl . No ...
... honest , handsome , white - streaked face Soon found him friends in ev'ry place . His breast was white , his shaggy back Well clad in coat of glossy black , His ample tail , with upward curl , Hung o'er his haunches with a swirl . No ...
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... honest , worthy folk , Are riven out both root and branch , Some rascal's prideful greed to quench , Who thinks to knit himself the faster In favor with some gentle master , Who's likely busy parliamenting , For Britain's good his soul ...
... honest , worthy folk , Are riven out both root and branch , Some rascal's prideful greed to quench , Who thinks to knit himself the faster In favor with some gentle master , Who's likely busy parliamenting , For Britain's good his soul ...
Страница 10
... honest woman , - Oft o'er the dyke she's heard you hummin ' , With weirdly drone , Or rustling through the hedges , coming With heavy groan . One dreary , windy , winter night , The stars shone down with slanting light , With you ...
... honest woman , - Oft o'er the dyke she's heard you hummin ' , With weirdly drone , Or rustling through the hedges , coming With heavy groan . One dreary , windy , winter night , The stars shone down with slanting light , With you ...
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... honest weaver to his trade , Whose wife's two hands were scarce well bred , Got twopence worth to mend her head When it was sore ; She slipped off quietly to her bed And ne'er spake more . " A country squire had got the bots , Or windy ...
... honest weaver to his trade , Whose wife's two hands were scarce well bred , Got twopence worth to mend her head When it was sore ; She slipped off quietly to her bed And ne'er spake more . " A country squire had got the bots , Or windy ...
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Ae fond kiss ALEXANDER CORBETT Allan Cunningham auld lang syne bard BEELZEBUB Beneath better blest bonny bonny lass brave John Highlandman breast Burns CÆSAR cheerful CHORUS clatter dance days of auld dear devils drink e'en e'er EPISTLE Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith fate fear fire folks fool give Glen glorious grace gray groans Halloween hand head hear heart Heaven hell Highland holy honest Hornbook jades Jean John Anderson JOLLY BEGGARS Lal de daudle Lal de lal lasses light Lord loud Mauchline meet Muse Nature's ne'er never night o'er the sea pleasure plough poems poet poor pride race rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic scarce Scotia's Scotland sight Sing sodger laddie song sore soul sweet TAM O'SHANTER TARBOLTON tell thee There's thou thought toil tune Twas weary ween whistle th wimpling young
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Страница 13 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betrayed, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid Low i
Страница 26 - 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 112 - Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met, or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Страница 31 - 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 32 - 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 30 - An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet ; Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a
Страница 111 - Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hearst thou the groans that rend his breast ? That sacred hour can I forget?
Страница 31 - Martyrs, worthy of the name, Or noble Elgin beets the heav'nward flame, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays: Compar'd with these, Italian trills are tame; The tickl'd ears no heart-felt raptures raise; Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise. The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage With...
Страница 110 - Our toils obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The Man's the gowd for a" that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A Man's a Man for a
Страница 30 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door , Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek ; Wi...