Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, Bind 1Adam Neill and Company, 1800 - 287 sider |
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Side 20
... light , Thou maks the goffips clatter bright , How fumblin cuifs their dearies flight ; Wae worth the name ! Nae howdie gets a focial night , Or plack frae them . When neebors anger at a plea , An ' juft as wud as wud can be , How eafy ...
... light , Thou maks the goffips clatter bright , How fumblin cuifs their dearies flight ; Wae worth the name ! Nae howdie gets a focial night , Or plack frae them . When neebors anger at a plea , An ' juft as wud as wud can be , How eafy ...
Side 37
... light was glintin ; The hares were hirplin down the furs , The lav'rocks they were chantin Fu ' fweet that day . II . As lightfomely I glowr'd abroad , To fee a scene sae gay , Three Hizzies , early at the road , Cam skelpin up the way ...
... light was glintin ; The hares were hirplin down the furs , The lav'rocks they were chantin Fu ' fweet that day . II . As lightfomely I glowr'd abroad , To fee a scene sae gay , Three Hizzies , early at the road , Cam skelpin up the way ...
Side 38
... light as ony lambie , An ' wi ' a curchie low did stoop , As foon as e'er fhe faw me , Fu ' kind that day . IV . • Wi ' bonnet aff , quoth I , Sweet lafs , I think ye feem to ken me ; I'm fure I've seen that bonie face , But yet I canna ...
... light as ony lambie , An ' wi ' a curchie low did stoop , As foon as e'er fhe faw me , Fu ' kind that day . IV . • Wi ' bonnet aff , quoth I , Sweet lafs , I think ye feem to ken me ; I'm fure I've seen that bonie face , But yet I canna ...
Side 94
... light * mother's fon , From this time forth , Confufion ; If * New - light is a cant phrafe , in the Weft of Scot- land , for those religious opinions which Dr Taylor of Norwich has defended fo ftrenuously . If mair they deave us with ...
... light * mother's fon , From this time forth , Confufion ; If * New - light is a cant phrafe , in the Weft of Scot- land , for those religious opinions which Dr Taylor of Norwich has defended fo ftrenuously . If mair they deave us with ...
Side 95
Robert Burns. If mair they deave us with their din , Or Patronage intrufion , We'll light a fpunk , and , ev'ry skin , We'll rin them aff in fufion Like oil , fome day . THE THE CAL F. TO THE REV . MR On his ( 95 )
Robert Burns. If mair they deave us with their din , Or Patronage intrufion , We'll light a fpunk , and , ev'ry skin , We'll rin them aff in fufion Like oil , fome day . THE THE CAL F. TO THE REV . MR On his ( 95 )
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
aith Amang ance Auld Brig baith Bard blate bleft bonie braw breaſt BRIG brunstane canna cloſe countra Cuifs curfed dear Deil douce e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry faft fair fhall fide fight filly fimple fing firft focial fome fome day foul frae ftan ftane ftill fure gang gaun gies glaſs guid Halloween hame heart Heav'n himfel honeft Hornbook houſe ither Juft juſt laffes laft Laigh Kirk Laird lefs leuk loft Mailie Mailie's dead maun monie muckle Mufe muſt mutchkin Nae mair ne'er night o'er out-owre owre pleaſure poor pow'r Profe raiſe rhyme rifing ruftic Samfon's dead Scotch Scotland ſee ſhe ſpeed Tam Samfon's dead tell thee thegither There's thou thrang thro unco warft weary weel Weft Whare Whyles ye'll ye're
Populære passager
Side 47 - Leeze me on Drink ! it gi'es us mair Than either School or College : It kindles Wit, it waukens Lair, It pangs us fou o
Side 217 - 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. Think ye, that sic as you and I, Wha drudge and drive thro...
Side 34 - To stan" or rin, Till skelp — a shot — they're aff, a' throw'ther, To save their skin. But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, Say, such is royal George's will, An' there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow.
Side 159 - Gies now and then a wallop, 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 leeway.
Side 191 - Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As thro' the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scar it strays; Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle ; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night.
Side 161 - 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 106 - An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will send him linkin, To your black pit ; But, faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkin, An
Side 100 - To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An' hear us squeel! Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame; Far kend an' noted is thy name; An' tho' yon lowin heugh's thy hame, Thou travels far; An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, Nor blate nor scaur. Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion For prey, a...
Side 231 - Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here shall close ne'er But with the closing tomb!
Side 159 - And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Your better art o' hidin'. Think, when your Castigated pulse Gies now and then a wallop ! What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop ! Wi