The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
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Výsledky 1 - 5 z 54.
Strana 17
... Frae morn to e'en it's nought but toiling , At baking , roasting , frying , boiling ; And tho ' the gentry first are stechin , Yet ev'n the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' sauce , ragouts , and sic like trashtrie , That's little short ...
... Frae morn to e'en it's nought but toiling , At baking , roasting , frying , boiling ; And tho ' the gentry first are stechin , Yet ev'n the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' sauce , ragouts , and sic like trashtrie , That's little short ...
Strana 20
... estate ! Are we sae foughten an ' harass'd For gear to gang that gate at last ? O would they stay aback frae courts , An ' please themsels wi ' countra sports , It wad for ev'ry ane be better , The Laird 20 THE TWA DOGS .
... estate ! Are we sae foughten an ' harass'd For gear to gang that gate at last ? O would they stay aback frae courts , An ' please themsels wi ' countra sports , It wad for ev'ry ane be better , The Laird 20 THE TWA DOGS .
Strana 25
... frae them . When neebors anger at a plea , An ' just as wud as wud can be , How easy can the barley - bree Cement the quarrel ! It's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee , To taste the barrel . 1 Burnewin - burn - the - wind - the Blacksmith ...
... frae them . When neebors anger at a plea , An ' just as wud as wud can be , How easy can the barley - bree Cement the quarrel ! It's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee , To taste the barrel . 1 Burnewin - burn - the - wind - the Blacksmith ...
Strana 27
... frae coast to coast ! Now colic grips , an ' barkin hoast , May kill us a ' ; For loyal Forbes ' charter'd boast Is ta'en awa ! Thae curst horse - leeches o ' th ' Excise , Wha mak the Whisky Stells their prize ! Haud up thy han ...
... frae coast to coast ! Now colic grips , an ' barkin hoast , May kill us a ' ; For loyal Forbes ' charter'd boast Is ta'en awa ! Thae curst horse - leeches o ' th ' Excise , Wha mak the Whisky Stells their prize ! Haud up thy han ...
Strana 33
... frae his hill , Clap in his cheek a Highland gill , Say , such is royal George's will , An ' there's the foe , He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow . Nae cauld , faint - hearted doubtings tease him : Death comes , wi ...
... frae his hill , Clap in his cheek a Highland gill , Say , such is royal George's will , An ' there's the foe , He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow . Nae cauld , faint - hearted doubtings tease him : Death comes , wi ...
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aith amang ance auld baith bard Beneath blast blest bonnie bonnie lasses braw BRIG brunstane Burns cauld chiel Cutty-sark dear deil e'en e'er Ellisland Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flow'rs fortune's frae gien gies grace guid hame haud heart Heav'n himsel honest humble ither John Highlandman Kilmarnock labour lasses leuk Lord maun mind mony mourn muckle muse mutchkin Nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor needna never night noble o'er out-owre owre owre the sea pleasure plough poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic Samson's dead sang sark Scotia's Scotland sing skelpin sugh sweet ta'en tears tell thee thegither There's thou thro TUNE unco weary weel Whare Whistle whyles William Burns wretch Ye'll ye're
Populárne pasáže
Strana 143 - 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 and bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care, And " Let us worship God !
Strana 143 - 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...
Strana 156 - ... sunward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd is laid Low i
Strana 170 - O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us ! It wad frae monie a blunder free us And foolish notion: What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, And ev'n Devotion I ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH.
Strana 126 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Strana 145 - 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 ! The Power, incens'd, the pageant will desert, The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ; But haply, in some cottage far apart, May hear, well pleas'd, the language of the soul ; And in his book of life the inmates poor enroll.
Strana 143 - 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...
Strana 141 - The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an
Strana 211 - Paisley harn, That while a lassie she had worn, In longitude tho' sorely scanty, It was her best, and she was vauntie. Ah ! little ken'd thy reverend grannie, That sark she coft for her wee Nannie, Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a
Strana 208 - Tam skelpit on thro" dub and mire, Despising wind, and rain, and fire; Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet; Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares, Lest bogles catch him unawares; Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry. — By this time he was cross the ford, Whare in the snaw, the chapman smoor'd; And past the birks and meikle stane, Whare drunken Charlie brak 's neck-bane; And thro...