The Works of Robert Burns. With an Account of His Life, and Criticism on His Writings: To which are Prefixed, Some Observations on the Character and Condition of the Scottish Peasantry
Crissy & Markley, 1850 - 456 sider
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The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and Criticism on His ...
Robert Burns,James Currie
Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015
appear arms auld banks bard beautiful bonnie bosom Burns called character charms dear death fair fate father fear feel flower frae genius give green guid hand happy head hear heart Highland hills honest honour hope hour I'll John kind lass lassie leave letter light live look Lord mair meet mind mony morning muse nature ne'er never night o'er pleasure poems poet poor present pride rest Robert round Scotland Scottish sing song soon soul spring stream sweet taste tears tell thee thing thou thought thro tion tune verses wander weel wild Willie wind wish young
Side 101 - Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will, for a' that, That sense and worth o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Side 68 - 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 94 - Let him follow me! 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! Liberty's in every blow!
Side 40 - 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 labour 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. At length his lonely Cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant...
Side 5 - 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, thro' 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!
Side 68 - 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 68 - 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 27 - Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, Th' adored Name, I taught thee how to pour in song, To soothe thy flame. 'I saw thy pulse's maddening play Wild send thee pleasure's devious way, Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from Heaven.
Side 40 - 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...