Отзывы - Написать отзыв
Не удалось найти ни одного отзыва.
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
amang arms auld banks beauty body bonnie braes bright Burns called charms CHORUS comes composed dear dearie early Eppie fair Farewell feel flower frae friends give glen green grows hame hand heart heroine Highland hills hour I'll John kiss laddie lady land lass lassie leave light lines live look lyric mair Mary maun meet merry mind morning muse Museum nature ne'er never night notes o'er perhaps pleasure Poet Poet's rose says Scotland Scottish seems seen sing song strain stream sweet tell thee There's thing thou thought thro thyme took town true Tune verses weary weel wife wild Willie wind wish woods written wrote young
Стр. 284 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
Стр. 131 - Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, An fill it in a silver tassie ; That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie : The boat rocks at the pier o...
Стр. 137 - Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair: I hear her in the tunefu...
Стр. 159 - Time but the impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My Mary, dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ?" Harris's " Tarn o' Shanter" has been considered one of his best compositions.
Стр. 282 - A waefu' day it was to me ; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see ; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e ! Now wae to thee thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee ! A RED, RED ROSE TUNE—
Стр. 15 - Green grow the rashes, O ; Green grow the rashes, O ; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend, Are spent am'ang the lasses, O ! THERE'S nought but care on ev'ry han', In ev'ry hour that passes, O ; What signifies the life o' man, An
Стр. 158 - Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Стр. 145 - My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here : My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.