The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: With a Sketch of the Author's Life, Bind 1

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Little, Brown & Company, 1863
 

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Side 139 - See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight, So abject, mean and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil ; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn, Unmindful though a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn.
Side 276 - My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Side 61 - It's no in titles nor in rank ; It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank, To purchase peace and rest ; It's no in making 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.
Side 150 - Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's every grace...
Side 117 - 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 175 - A fig for those by law protected ! Liberty's a glorious feast ! Courts for cowards were erected, Churches built to please the priest.
Side 41 - Is it departing pangs my soul alarms ? Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms ; I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, " Forgive my foul offence !" Fain promise never more to disobey ; But, should my Author health again dispense, Again I might desert fair virtue's way : Again in folly's path might go astray ; Again exalt the brute and sink the man ; Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,...
Side 145 - But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neibor 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...
Side 248 - What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop ! Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, Right on ye scud your sea-way; But in the teeth o' baith to sail, It maks an unco lee-way.
Side 60 - 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 and sowth a tune ; Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, And sing't when we hae done.

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