Robert Burns: How to Know HimBobbs-Merrill Company, 1917 - 332 strán (strany) |
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Výsledky 6 - 10 z 24.
Strana 120
... weary shearer's hameward way , Thro ' yellow waving fields we'll stray , And talk o ' love , my dearie , O. And when the howling wintry blast Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ; Enclasped to my faithfu ' breast , I'll comfort thee , my ...
... weary shearer's hameward way , Thro ' yellow waving fields we'll stray , And talk o ' love , my dearie , O. And when the howling wintry blast Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ; Enclasped to my faithfu ' breast , I'll comfort thee , my ...
Strana 128
... weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber , O ; No view nor care , but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow , O , I live to - day as well's I may , regardless of to - morrow , O. But cheerful still , I am as well as a monarch in a ...
... weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber , O ; No view nor care , but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow , O , I live to - day as well's I may , regardless of to - morrow , O. But cheerful still , I am as well as a monarch in a ...
Strana 131
... weary fu ' o ' care ? Thou'lt break my heart , thou warbling bird , That wantons thro ' the flowering thorn ; Thou minds me o ' departed joys , Departed never to return . Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon , To see the rose and woodbine ...
... weary fu ' o ' care ? Thou'lt break my heart , thou warbling bird , That wantons thro ' the flowering thorn ; Thou minds me o ' departed joys , Departed never to return . Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon , To see the rose and woodbine ...
Strana 138
... morn , Tho ' I were ne'er sae weary . For O , her lanely nights are lang ; And O , her dreams are eerie ; And O , her widow'd heart is sair , That's absent frae her dearie . When I think on the lightsome days I spent wi 138 BURNS.
... morn , Tho ' I were ne'er sae weary . For O , her lanely nights are lang ; And O , her dreams are eerie ; And O , her widow'd heart is sair , That's absent frae her dearie . When I think on the lightsome days I spent wi 138 BURNS.
Strana 139
... , And silken snoods he gae me twa ; And I will wear them for his sake , The bonnie lad that's far awa . go , fine put have one fillets , gave clothe , birch woods O weary winter soon will pass BURNS AND SCOTTISH SONG 139.
... , And silken snoods he gae me twa ; And I will wear them for his sake , The bonnie lad that's far awa . go , fine put have one fillets , gave clothe , birch woods O weary winter soon will pass BURNS AND SCOTTISH SONG 139.
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aboon Ae Fond Kiss amang auld auld lang syne baith Bannocks barley blaw blest blythe body kiss bonie laddie bonnie bonnie Doon braes braw Burns Burns's ca'd cauld Comin Cutty-Sark dear dearie Deil devil drink e'en e'er Ellisland English Epistle Ev'n ev'ry fair Findlay frae Gala Water gane glen Halloween hame haud heart Highland laddie honest ilka Jean John Anderson John Highlandman Kenmure's kirk lasses lassie lo'e Lord mair Mary maun merry mony ne'er never night o'er owre poems poet poetry poor pow'r rantin rhyme Samson's dead satire Scotch Scotland Scots Scottish Shanter sing skelpin snaw songs stanza sweet Syne tell thee thegither There's thou thro tune unco verse weary weel Whyles wife Willie wind wooing o't ye'll
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Strana 12 - 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 263 - Tam tint his reason a' thegither, And roars out, " Weel done, Cutty-sark !" And in an instant all was dark: And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke ; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop ! she starts before their nose ; As eager runs the market-crowd, When, "Catch the thief ! " resounds aloud ; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.
Strana 113 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, O!
Strana 178 - Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman ; Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human. One point must still be greatly dark, The moving why they do it; And just as lamely can ye mark How far perhaps they rue it.
Strana 8 - 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...
Strana 10 - 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; With heart-struck anxious care inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi...
Strana 158 - Our toils obscure, and a' that ; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a
Strana 11 - 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 scents the evening gale.
Strana 146 - John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Strana 49 - 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.