The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Том 38Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 |
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... Morning Salu- tation to his Auld Mare Maggie , To a Mouse , on turning her up in her nest with the Plough , November , 1785 , A Winter Night , Epistle to Davie , a Brother Poet , · The Lament , occasioned by the unfortunate Despondency ...
... Morning Salu- tation to his Auld Mare Maggie , To a Mouse , on turning her up in her nest with the Plough , November , 1785 , A Winter Night , Epistle to Davie , a Brother Poet , · The Lament , occasioned by the unfortunate Despondency ...
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... Morning Salute to his Mistress , 370 The Auld Man , 371 My Chloris , mark how green the groves , ib . It was the charming month of May , Lassie wi ' the Lint - white Locks , 372 373 Farewell thou stream that winding flows , 375 O Philly ...
... Morning Salute to his Mistress , 370 The Auld Man , 371 My Chloris , mark how green the groves , ib . It was the charming month of May , Lassie wi ' the Lint - white Locks , 372 373 Farewell thou stream that winding flows , 375 O Philly ...
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... morn his earliest smile . Wak'd by his rustic pipe , meanwhile The powers of fancy came along , And sooth'd his lengthen'd hour of toil With native wit and sprightly song . -Ah ! days of bliss , too swiftly fled , 28 ON THE DEATH OF BURNS .
... morn his earliest smile . Wak'd by his rustic pipe , meanwhile The powers of fancy came along , And sooth'd his lengthen'd hour of toil With native wit and sprightly song . -Ah ! days of bliss , too swiftly fled , 28 ON THE DEATH OF BURNS .
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... morn to e'en its nought but toiling , At baking , roasting , frying , boiling ; An ' tho ' the gentry first are stechin , Yet ev❜n the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' sauce , ragouts , and siclike trashtrie , That's little short o ...
... morn to e'en its nought but toiling , At baking , roasting , frying , boiling ; An ' tho ' the gentry first are stechin , Yet ev❜n the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' sauce , ragouts , and siclike trashtrie , That's little short o ...
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... , An ' Aits set up their awnie horn , An ' Pease and Beans at e'en or morn , Perfume the plain , Leeze me on thee , John Barleycorn , Thou king o ' grain ! On thee aft Scotland chows her cood , In souple 50 BURNS ' POEMS ; Scotch Drink,
... , An ' Aits set up their awnie horn , An ' Pease and Beans at e'en or morn , Perfume the plain , Leeze me on thee , John Barleycorn , Thou king o ' grain ! On thee aft Scotland chows her cood , In souple 50 BURNS ' POEMS ; Scotch Drink,
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Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
amang auld auld lang syne baith bard Beneath blate blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses bosom braes braw breast BRIG brunstane Burns canna cauld charms dear dearie deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flowers frae gies guid hame haud hear heart Heav'n honest honour ither John Barleycorn lasses lassie Lord Gregory Mailie maun mony morn mourn muckle muse nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor never night o'er out-owre owre pleasure pleugh poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic Samson's dead Scotia's Scotland sing skelpin SONG soul sugh sweet Syne ta'en tears tell thee There's thou thro toil Tune unco wander weary weel Whare whistling Whyles wild Willie winds wretch XXXVIII ye'll ye're youthful
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Страница 165 - 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 369 - 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 namely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that? Gi'e fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a
Страница 164 - 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 175 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...
Страница 251 - A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the Borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm.-— Nae man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches, Tam maun ride ; That hour o...
Страница 368 - THAT AND A' THAT" Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that! The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Страница 175 - Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine — no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!
Страница 253 - The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze, Thro, ilka bore the beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing. Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the Devil!
Страница 286 - Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? " That sacred hour can I forget ? Can I forget the hallow'd grove Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, To live one day of parting love...
Страница 255 - Tam tint his reason a' thegither, And roars out: 'Weel done, Cutty-sark!' And in an instant all was dark; And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop! she starts before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When 'Catch the thief!' resounds aloud; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.