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ALLAN CUNNINGHAM Allan Ramsay amang auld ballad banks bard beauty bonnie bonnie lass bosom braes braw BURNS TO G Burns's charms composed dear dearie Dumfries e'er Edinburgh Ellisland epistle eyes fair fancy father favourite feeling frae genius hame hand happy heart Highland Highland laddie honour Jacobite Jean John Kilmarnock laddie lady lass lassie letter lines lived look Lord lyric mair Mauchline maun mind mony morning Mossgiel muse ne'er never night Nith o'er owre pleasure poem Poet Poet's poetic poetry poor rhyme Robert Robert Burns says Scotland Scots Scottish sentiment sing song soul stanza sung sweet Tarbolton taste thee There's Thomson thou thought thro tion tune verses weel Whigs wife wild Willie words wrote young
Стр. 222 - That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, An' cranreuch cauld! But Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an
Стр. 232 - How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal Bard did groaning lie 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.
Стр. 233 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Стр. 227 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, '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.
Стр. 221 - Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi
Стр. 52 - Wallace's undaunted heart ; Who dar'd to, nobly, stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part, (The patriot's God, peculiarly thou art, His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward !) O never, never, Scotia's realm desert, But still the patriot, and the patriot -bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard ! MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.
Стр. 300 - 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 nor Tide, The hour approaches Tarn maun ride ; That hour, o...
Стр. 232 - 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.
Стр. 231 - My loved, my honored, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequestered scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah!
Стр. 5 - You know our country custom of coupling a man and woman together as partners in the labours of harvest. In my fifteenth autumn my partner was a bewitching creature, a year younger than myself. My scarcity of English denies me the power of doing her justice in that language ; but you know the Scottish idiom — she was a bonnie, sweet, sonsie lass.