The Bibliography of Robert Burns: With Biographical and Bibliographical Notes, and Sketches of Burns Clubs, Monuments and Statues ...J. McKie, 1881 - 338 strán (strany) |
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The Bibliography of Robert Burns: With Biographical and Bibliographical ... James Gibson Úplné zobrazenie - 1881 |
The Bibliography of Robert Burns: With Biographical and Bibliographical ... James Gibson Úplné zobrazenie - 1881 |
Časté výrazy a frázy
25th January Account Alexander Allan Cunningham Alloway Kirk Anniversary Auld Author Ayrshire Ballads Bard born BURNS Club BURNS'S autograph celebrated Character and Condition CHIEFLY Clarinda collection containing copy Corrected Glossary Cottage Cotter's Saturday Night Criticism Currie's Edition died Doon Dumfries Edinburgh Dedication Edition of BURNS Editor Ellisland Engraved Portrait Epistle Fac-simile Four volumes Frontispiece genius George Gilbert Burns Glasgow honour Illustrations Imperial Octavo J. G. Lockhart James Currie JAMES M'KIE Jolly Beggars Kilmarnock Kilmarnock Preface Land of BURNS Letter from BURNS literary London Magazine Mauchline Memoir memory of BURNS Nasmyth Newcastle-upon-Tyne Notes O'Shanter Octavo Original Paisley pieces Poems and Songs Poet POETICAL Poetry Portrait of BURNS prefixed some Observations Price printed published Quarto ROBERT BURNS Robert Chambers Scotland Scots Musical Museum Scott SCOTTISH DIALECT Scottish Peasantry Scottish Song Shanter Stewart Tam O'Shanter Thomas Thomson Verses Vignette William Woodcut Writings written
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Strana 118 - And steady loyalty and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found' st me poor at first and keep'st me so...
Strana 60 - And wi' the lave ilk merry morn Could rank my rig and lass, Still shearing, and clearing The tither stocked raw, Wi' claivers, an' haivers, Wearing the day awa : Ev'n then a wish, (I mind its power,) A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breast ; That I for poor auld Scotland's sake, Some usefu' plan, or beuk could make, Or sing a sang at least.
Strana 120 - The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And , as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shape , and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
Strana 43 - 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!
Strana 212 - Tam wi' furious ettle ; But little wist she Maggie's mettle — Ae spring brought off her master hale, But left behind her ain gray tail : The carlin claught her by the rump, And left poor Maggie scarce a stump. Now, wha this tale o...
Strana 319 - O YE, whose cheek the tear of pity stains, Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend ! Here lie the loving husband's dear remains, The tender father, and the gen'rous friend. The pitying heart that felt for human woe ; The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride ; The friend of man, to vice alone a foe ; " For ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side.
Strana 118 - Quid verum atque decens euro et rogo, et omnis in hoc sum ; Condo et compono quae mox depromere possim.
Strana 235 - Let him follow me! 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!
Strana 148 - Where fear, distrust, malevolence, abide, And impotent desire, and disappointed pride? IX. 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields...
Strana 234 - I am nae Poet, in a sense, But just a Rhymer, like, by chance, An' hae to learning nae pretence, Yet, what the matter ? Whene'er my Muse does on me glance, I jingle at her. Your critic-folk may cock their nose, And say, ' How can you e'er propose, You wha ken hardly verse frae prose, To mak a sang ?' But, by your leaves, my learned foes, Ye're maybe wrang. What's a