The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by C. Kent1878 |
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Стр. ix
... Sweet My Lovely Nancy The Dumfries Volunteers Damon and Sylvia • O , were my Love yon Lilac Fair Shelah O'Neil . My ain Kind Dearie , O Will ye go to the Indies , my Mary . My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing . Highland Mary Auld Rob Morris O ...
... Sweet My Lovely Nancy The Dumfries Volunteers Damon and Sylvia • O , were my Love yon Lilac Fair Shelah O'Neil . My ain Kind Dearie , O Will ye go to the Indies , my Mary . My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing . Highland Mary Auld Rob Morris O ...
Стр. xi
... Sweet Roses 402 On a National Thanksgiving for a Naval Roslin Castle . 402 Victory . 392 Saw ye Johnnie Cummin 4C3 The Black - headed Eagle 392 Clout the Caldron 404 Grace after Dinner 392 Saw ye na my Peggy 404 Another Grace . . 392 ...
... Sweet Roses 402 On a National Thanksgiving for a Naval Roslin Castle . 402 Victory . 392 Saw ye Johnnie Cummin 4C3 The Black - headed Eagle 392 Clout the Caldron 404 Grace after Dinner 392 Saw ye na my Peggy 404 Another Grace . . 392 ...
Стр. 53
... sweet wee lady , Or if I blush when thou shalt ca ' me Tit - ta , or daddy . Wee image of my bonnie Betty , I fatherly will kiss and daut thee , As dear and near my heart I set thee Wi ' as guid will , As a ' the priests had seen me get ...
... sweet wee lady , Or if I blush when thou shalt ca ' me Tit - ta , or daddy . Wee image of my bonnie Betty , I fatherly will kiss and daut thee , As dear and near my heart I set thee Wi ' as guid will , As a ' the priests had seen me get ...
Стр. 61
... sweet , braw , buskit , bonnie lass , That lap like Hebe o'er the grass . The scene here described is that yearly celebra- tion of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper , which , in the rural districts of Scotland , is only too literally a ...
... sweet , braw , buskit , bonnie lass , That lap like Hebe o'er the grass . The scene here described is that yearly celebra- tion of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper , which , in the rural districts of Scotland , is only too literally a ...
Стр. 62
... Sweet lass , I think ye seem to ken me ; I'm sure I've seen that bonnie face , But yet I canna name ye . " Quo ' she , an ' laughin ' as she spak ' , An ' tak's me by the hands , " Ye , for my sake , ha'e gi'en the feck Of a ' the Ten ...
... Sweet lass , I think ye seem to ken me ; I'm sure I've seen that bonnie face , But yet I canna name ye . " Quo ' she , an ' laughin ' as she spak ' , An ' tak's me by the hands , " Ye , for my sake , ha'e gi'en the feck Of a ' the Ten ...
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amang auld baith blaw blest blithe bonnie lass bosom braes braw breast Burns Burns's canna cauld charms Clarinda de'il dear dearie Dumfries e'en e'er Edinburgh Ellisland eyes fair Farewell fate flowers frae Gala Water gang Gavin Hamilton gi'e glen grace guid ha'e hame heart Heaven Highland Highland laddie honest honour ilka Jacobite Jamie Jean John Johnnie Kilmarnock kiss laddie lady laird lassie lo'e Lord Mary Mauchline maun mony morning Mossgiel mourn Muse nae mair nane ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure Poet Poet's poor rhyme Robert Robert Burns sang Scotland Scots sing song stanzas sweet Syne Tarbolton tears tell thee There's thou Tune Tune-"The unco verses weary weel Whare Whigs whyles wife Willie young
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Стр. 92 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page, 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. Perhaps...
Стр. 106 - Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain. These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art.
Стр. 92 - But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neibor 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; Wi...
Стр. 14 - God loves from whole to parts: but human soul Must rise from individual to the whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake! The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace; His country next; and next all human race...
Стр. 91 - 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...
Стр. 263 - MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. 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.
Стр. 92 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel-pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love ! where love like this is found : O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare ! 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...
Стр. 344 - Our toils obscure, and a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that ; For a
Стр. 181 - Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o...
Стр. 92 - Is there, in human form, that bears a heart, A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?