The poetical works of Robert BurnsJ. B. Lippincott, 1814 - 604 sider |
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Side vii
... true tender , or sublime , from affectation and fustian . I am convinced I owe to this practice much of my critic - craft , such as it is . " In my seventeenth year , to give my manners a brush , I went to a country dancing - school ...
... true tender , or sublime , from affectation and fustian . I am convinced I owe to this practice much of my critic - craft , such as it is . " In my seventeenth year , to give my manners a brush , I went to a country dancing - school ...
Side viii
... true poet , not worth a sixpence . " This , combined with an attachment he had formed with a young woman , ( who , in his letter to Dr. Moore , he says , had jilted him with peculiar circumstances of morti- ficat n , ) , threw him ...
... true poet , not worth a sixpence . " This , combined with an attachment he had formed with a young woman , ( who , in his letter to Dr. Moore , he says , had jilted him with peculiar circumstances of morti- ficat n , ) , threw him ...
Side xi
... true taste remains . Fired with indignation at this national neglect , Burus addressed the following letter to the magistrates of Canongate , of the date 6th of February , 1787 . " Gentlemen , I am sorry to be told that the remains of ...
... true taste remains . Fired with indignation at this national neglect , Burus addressed the following letter to the magistrates of Canongate , of the date 6th of February , 1787 . " Gentlemen , I am sorry to be told that the remains of ...
Side 4
... true that ye hae said , Sic game is now owre aften play'd . There's monie a creditable stock O ' decent , honest , fawsont folk , Are riven out , both root and branch , · Some rascal's pridefu ' greed to quench , Wha thinks to knit ...
... true that ye hae said , Sic game is now owre aften play'd . There's monie a creditable stock O ' decent , honest , fawsont folk , Are riven out , both root and branch , · Some rascal's pridefu ' greed to quench , Wha thinks to knit ...
Side 6
... true , they need na starve or sweat , Thro ' winter's cauld , or simmer's heat ; - They've nae sair wark to craze their banes , An ' fill auld age wi ' grips an ' granes : But human bodies are sic fools , For a ' their colleges and ...
... true , they need na starve or sweat , Thro ' winter's cauld , or simmer's heat ; - They've nae sair wark to craze their banes , An ' fill auld age wi ' grips an ' granes : But human bodies are sic fools , For a ' their colleges and ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
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ae night amang auld baith bard Birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses braes braw Brig brunstane Burns cauld charms dear deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flow'rs frae gies glen grace gude guid hame heart Heav'n honest honour ilka ither John Anderson John Barleycorn lasses lassie leuk Lord Lord Gregory maun mony morning mourn muckle Muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never o'er owre pleasure plough poet poor pow'r pray'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS ROBERT FERGUSSON Robin Gray round Samson's dead Scotish Scotland sing skelpin song sugh sweet Syne ta'en tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro unco weary weel Whare Whistle Whyles wild Willie wind wooing o't ye'll ye're
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Side 92 - 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 !
Side 94 - From scenes like these, old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, 'An honest man's the noblest work of God'; And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp?
Side 91 - Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave ; The mother, wi...
Side 142 - Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a
Side 224 - Man for 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
Side 90 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; The short'ning winter-day is near a close; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose: The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end. Collects his spades, his mattocks and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend.
Side xvii - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause— and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn, and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame ; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend — whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit...
Side 160 - O Death ! the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best ! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest ! The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn ; But, Oh ! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn ! A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEA TH.
Side 142 - Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'. As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious : The piper loud and louder blew ; The dancers quick and quicker flew ; They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, 'Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, And coost her duddies to the wark, And linket at it in her sark ! Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been queans A' plump and strapping, in their teens ; Their sarks instead o...
Side 91 - 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 ; With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak : Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi...