The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: With a Memoir, Volumer 1-3Houghton, Mifflin, 1880 |
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Side xii
... mair I hail thee , thou gloomy December SONGO May , thy Morn was ne'er so sweet SONG My Nannie's awa ' - To Fergusson • · * c 273 • e 276 C 277 281 C 281 C 286 • d 288 d 290 h 291 e 292 • e 294 e 295 h 297 299 • 300 301 302 303 - SONG ...
... mair I hail thee , thou gloomy December SONGO May , thy Morn was ne'er so sweet SONG My Nannie's awa ' - To Fergusson • · * c 273 • e 276 C 277 281 C 281 C 286 • d 288 d 290 h 291 e 292 • e 294 e 295 h 297 299 • 300 301 302 303 - SONG ...
Side 11
... mair admiration they draw , man ; While peaches and cherries , and roses and lilies , They fade and they wither awa , man . If ye be for Miss Jean , tak this frae a frien ' , A hint o ' a rival or twa , man ; The Laird o ' Blackbyre wad ...
... mair admiration they draw , man ; While peaches and cherries , and roses and lilies , They fade and they wither awa , man . If ye be for Miss Jean , tak this frae a frien ' , A hint o ' a rival or twa , man ; The Laird o ' Blackbyre wad ...
Side 19
... mair I'll go and be a sodger ! Oн leave novels , ye Mauchline belles , Ye're safer at your spinning - wheel ; Such witching books are baited hooks For rakish rooks like ST . 24. FROM A MEMORANDUM BOOK . 19 Prayer written under the ...
... mair I'll go and be a sodger ! Oн leave novels , ye Mauchline belles , Ye're safer at your spinning - wheel ; Such witching books are baited hooks For rakish rooks like ST . 24. FROM A MEMORANDUM BOOK . 19 Prayer written under the ...
Side 24
... mair Wi ' wicked strings o ' hemp or hair ! But ca ' them out to park or hill , And let them wander at their will ; So may his flock increase , and grow To scores o ' lambs , and packs o ' woo ' ! staring money drive 1 A neighbor herd ...
... mair Wi ' wicked strings o ' hemp or hair ! But ca ' them out to park or hill , And let them wander at their will ; So may his flock increase , and grow To scores o ' lambs , and packs o ' woo ' ! staring money drive 1 A neighbor herd ...
Side 27
... mair faithfu ' ne'er cam nigh him Than Mailie dead . I wat she was a sheep o ' sense , And could behave hersel wi ' mense : I'll say't she never brak a fence , Through thievish greed . Our bardie , lanely , keeps the spence Sin ...
... mair faithfu ' ne'er cam nigh him Than Mailie dead . I wat she was a sheep o ' sense , And could behave hersel wi ' mense : I'll say't she never brak a fence , Through thievish greed . Our bardie , lanely , keeps the spence Sin ...
Innhold
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The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: With a Memoir Robert Burns Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Amang ance auld baith bard blaw blest blithe bonnie lass bonny braes braw Burns Burns's canna Cessnock charms dear death deil e'en e'er Epistle fair fate fear Fête Champêtre fortune frae Gavin Hamilton grace guid hame heart Heaven Highland honest honour ither John John Barleycorn Kilmarnock Laird lass Lord Mailie Mauchline maun mind monie Mossgiel mourn muckle Muse nae mair ne'er never night o'er out-owre owre Peggy pleasure plough poem poet poet's poor pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic sang Scotch Scotland Scottish sing skelpin song soul stanza sweet Syne tell tempests storming thee thegither There's thou Torbolton TUNE twa glancing sparkling unco verses wander weary weel Whigs whistle Whyles ye hae Ye'll ye're young
Populære avsnitt
Side 148 - 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 and bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And, " Let us worship God,
Side 149 - Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He Who bore in Heaven the second name Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How His first followers and servants sped; The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand,...
Side 200 - I forget the hallowed grove where by the winding Ayr we met, to live one day of parting love! Eternity will not efface those records dear of transports past; thy image at our last embrace — ah! little thought we 'twas our last! Ayr gurgling kissed his pebbled shore, o'erhung with wild woods...
Side 150 - THAT AND 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 146 - I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare, — ' If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare — One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
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...
Side 277 - There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes; Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Side 257 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Side 18 - Let others fear, to me more dear Than all the pride of May : The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul, My griefs it seems to join ; The leafless trees my fancy please, Their fate resembles mine ! Thou Power Supreme whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here, firm I rest ; they must be best.
Side 16 - 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.