The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: Including Several Pieces Not Inserted in Dr. Currie's Edition: Exhibited Under a New Plan of Arrangement
Phillips, Sampson, and Company, 1854 - 524 sider
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amang arms auld banks bard beneath better blast blow body bonie bosom breast charms dead dear death Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith fate fear fellow frae give glen grace green guid hand head hear heart hills honest honor hope hour John kind king lass lassie light live look Lord mair mark maun meet mind monie morn mourn Muse Nature ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure poet poor pride rest rhyme roar round scenes sing song soul sweet tear tell thee There's thou thought thro Till TUNE weary weel whistle wild wind worth ye'll young
Side 316 - 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.
Side 226 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, 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...
Side 141 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Side 422 - Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills ; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Side 189 - But to conclude my silly rhyme, (I'm scant o' verse, and scant o' time,) To make a happy fire-side clime To weans and wife, That's the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
Side 83 - While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide, Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart!
Side 384 - By oppression's woes and pains ! By your sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free ! Lay the proud usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe!
Side 227 - 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!