Notes of a trip to the haunts of Tannahill and the land of Burns, by Propertius

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Strana 65 - Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem : To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet, Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' speckled breast, When upward-springing, blithe, to greet The purpling east.
Strana 48 - 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?
Strana 38 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter ; And ay the ale was growing better : The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious : The Souter tauld his queerest stories ; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus : The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.
Strana 66 - 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
Strana 30 - The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen ; The monarch may forget the crown ' That on his head an hour has been ; The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And a' that thou hast done for me ! " LINES, SENT TO SIR JOHN WHITEFORD, OF WHITEFORD, BART.
Strana 34 - I'll be a Brig, when ye're a shapeless cairn ! As yet ye little ken about the matter, But twa-three winters will inform ye better. When heavy, dark, continued, a'-day rains, Wi' deepening deluges o'erflow the plains ; When from the hills where springs the brawling Coil, Or stately Lugar's mossy fountains boil, Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course Or haunted Garpal draws his feeble source, Arous'd by blust'ring winds an' spotting thowes, In mony a torrent down his snaw-broo rowes ; While...
Strana 66 - Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! Its silly wa's the win's are strewin': An' naething, now, to big a new ane, O' foggage green! An' bleak December's winds ensuin', Baith snell and keen! Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste An' weary winter comin' fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, Till, crash!
Strana 42 - 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 an' bare; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!
Strana 42 - The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride.
Strana 67 - Burns ploughed up the Daisy." Far and wide A plain below stretched seaward, while, descried Above sea-clouds, the Peaks of Arran rose ; And, by that simple notice, the repose Of earth, sky, sea, and air, was vivified. Beneath ' the random bield of clod or stone...

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