Select Poems of Robert BurnsD.C. Heath & Company, 1896 - 370 strán (strany) |
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Strana vi
... thou this , ' she solemn said , And bound the holly round his head . " That Robbie Burns is the idol of Scotland few who have had the privilege of knowing the Scotch people will venture to gainsay ; and hence it is worth our while to ...
... thou this , ' she solemn said , And bound the holly round his head . " That Robbie Burns is the idol of Scotland few who have had the privilege of knowing the Scotch people will venture to gainsay ; and hence it is worth our while to ...
Strana x
... thou , bright sun , be kind to me . Where I may hear the waterfall , And the hum of its falling wave , And give me the harp , and the shell , and the shield , Of my sires in the strife of the brave . " 2 In the latest of the bards ...
... thou , bright sun , be kind to me . Where I may hear the waterfall , And the hum of its falling wave , And give me the harp , and the shell , and the shield , Of my sires in the strife of the brave . " 2 In the latest of the bards ...
Strana xviii
... thou may'st eat thy bread , and lick the hand That feeds thee ; thou may'st frolic on the floor At evening , and at night retire secure To thy straw couch , and slumber unalarmed . " Burns loved to wander , ―― " Whyles owre the linn the ...
... thou may'st eat thy bread , and lick the hand That feeds thee ; thou may'st frolic on the floor At evening , and at night retire secure To thy straw couch , and slumber unalarmed . " Burns loved to wander , ―― " Whyles owre the linn the ...
Strana xxxvi
... Thou Dread Power Farewell to the Banks of Ayr . 113 115 117 121 126 129 130 Will Ye Go to the Indies , My Mary . 131 Prayer for Mary 132 My Highland Lassie , O. 133 Lines on Meeting with Lord Daer 135 The Lass o ' Ballochmyle • 136 The ...
... Thou Dread Power Farewell to the Banks of Ayr . 113 115 117 121 126 129 130 Will Ye Go to the Indies , My Mary . 131 Prayer for Mary 132 My Highland Lassie , O. 133 Lines on Meeting with Lord Daer 135 The Lass o ' Ballochmyle • 136 The ...
Strana xxxviii
... Thou maun never be Mine O wert Thou in the Cauld Blast Poem on Pastoral Poetry · 206 208 209 210 • 211 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 223 224 225 227 228 228 Chronological 231 Notes . 233 Burns in Other Tongues 355 Rules for ...
... Thou maun never be Mine O wert Thou in the Cauld Blast Poem on Pastoral Poetry · 206 208 209 210 • 211 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 223 224 225 227 228 228 Chronological 231 Notes . 233 Burns in Other Tongues 355 Rules for ...
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amang Auld Lang Syne Ayrshire banks bard beautiful Birks of Aberfeldy blaw blythe bonnie braes braw Burns wrote Burns's Charles Kingsley charm chorus Cotter's Saturday Night Cunningham Currie Dainty Davie dear Deil Doon Douglas Dumfries e'en Edinburgh EPISTLE Ev'n ev'ry fair Farewell Fergusson flowers frae Gala Water glen hame heart Heaven Highland Mary hills honest Jean John John Stuart Blackie Johnson's Museum Kilmarnock lass lassie Lord lyric mair Mauchline maun monie morning Mossgiel mourn Muse nature ne'er never Nith o'er owre passion pleasure poem poet poet's poetry poor Professor Blackie rhyme Robert Burns sang says Scotch Scotland Scottish Shairp Shanter sing song soul stanza Stopford Brooke sweet Tarbolton thee Thomson Thomson's Coll thou thro TUNE unco verses wander weel Whyles Willie Willie's wind Wordsworth
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Strana 57 - 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.
Strana 83 - 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...
Strana 154 - OF a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly like the west, For there the bonnie lassie lives, The lassie I lo'e best : There wild woods grow, and rivers row, And mony a hill between ; But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi
Strana 112 - mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth ; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield, But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane.
Strana 106 - I've notic'd, on our Laird's court-day, An' mony a time my heart's been wae, Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash, How they maun thole a factor's snash : He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear, He'll apprehend them, poind their gear ; While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble ! I see how folk live that hae riches ; But surely poor folk maun be wretches ? LUATII.
Strana 80 - MY lov'd, my honor'd, 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 sequester'd scene ; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah ! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween. November chill blaws loud wi...
Strana 68 - But, mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain; The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an
Strana 111 - WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, 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 pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Strana 157 - For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine ; But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne.
Strana 86 - An honest man's the noblest work of God;" And certes, in fair virtue's heav'nly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp?