The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: Including Several Pieces Not Inserted in Dr. Currie's Edition: Exhibited Under a New Plan of ArrangementPhillips, Sampson, and Company, 1854 - Всего страниц: 524 |
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Стр. 22
... kind of life - the cheerless gloom of a hermit , with the unceasing moil of a galley slave , brought me to my sixteenth year , a little before which period I first com- mitted the sin of rhyme . You know our country custom of coupling a ...
... kind of life - the cheerless gloom of a hermit , with the unceasing moil of a galley slave , brought me to my sixteenth year , a little before which period I first com- mitted the sin of rhyme . You know our country custom of coupling a ...
Стр. 31
... kind Providence placed me under the patronage of one of the noblest of men , the earl of Glencairn . Oublie moi , Grand Dieu , si jamais je l'oublie ! " I need relate no farther . At Edinburgh I was in 8 new world ; I mingled among many ...
... kind Providence placed me under the patronage of one of the noblest of men , the earl of Glencairn . Oublie moi , Grand Dieu , si jamais je l'oublie ! " I need relate no farther . At Edinburgh I was in 8 new world ; I mingled among many ...
Стр. 45
... kind of counterpoise to the struggles of a world , always an alien scene , a task uncouth to the poetical mind , — these were his motives for courting the muses , and in these he found Poetry to be its own reward . 1 Now that he appears ...
... kind of counterpoise to the struggles of a world , always an alien scene , a task uncouth to the poetical mind , — these were his motives for courting the muses , and in these he found Poetry to be its own reward . 1 Now that he appears ...
Стр. 73
... sung His minstrel lays ; ' Or tore , with noble ardor stung , The skeptic's bays . " To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human - kind . The rustic Bard , the lab'ring hind , The Artisan 7 . BURNS'S POEMS . 73.
... sung His minstrel lays ; ' Or tore , with noble ardor stung , The skeptic's bays . " To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human - kind . The rustic Bard , the lab'ring hind , The Artisan 7 . BURNS'S POEMS . 73.
Стр. 84
... kind , Studied in arts of hell , in wickedness refin'd ! XX . O Scotia ! my dear , my native soil ! For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent , Long may the hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health , and peace , and sweet content ...
... kind , Studied in arts of hell , in wickedness refin'd ! XX . O Scotia ! my dear , my native soil ! For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent , Long may the hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health , and peace , and sweet content ...
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amang auld baith bard birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blaw blest blithe bonie lasses bosom braes braw breast Brig brunstane Burns cauld charms claut Cutty-sark dear dearie Deil dimin Dumfries e'en e'er Ellisland Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flower frae gien glen grace green guid hame heart Heav'n Highland honest honor humble ilka ither John Barleycorn lassie Lord Mauchline maun monie morn mourn Muse nae mair Nature's ne'er never night o'er onie owre pleasure plough poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round sang Scotland Scottish sing skelpin song soul sugh sweet taen tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro TUNE unco warl weary weel Whare whistle Whyles wild wind winna wretch ye'll ye're
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Стр. 316 - 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. 81 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps ' Dundee's ' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive *• Martyrs...
Стр. 226 - 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...
Стр. 141 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Стр. 422 - Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills ; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Стр. 189 - But to conclude my silly rhyme, (I'm scant o' verse, and scant o' time,) To make a happy fire-side clime To weans and wife, That's the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
Стр. 83 - While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide, Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart!
Стр. 384 - 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!
Стр. 227 - The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze, Thro, ilka bore the beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing. Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the Devil!
Стр. 443 - Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear ; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear — Jessy ! ALTHO' thou maun never be mine, Altho...