The poetical works of Robert BurnsJ. B. Lippincott, 1814 - 604 страници |
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Страница 28
... whistling o'er the hill ; Shall he , nurs'd in the peasant's lowly shed , To hardy independence bravely bred , By early poverty to hardship steel'd , And train'd to arms in stern misfortune's field , Shall he be guilty of their bireling ...
... whistling o'er the hill ; Shall he , nurs'd in the peasant's lowly shed , To hardy independence bravely bred , By early poverty to hardship steel'd , And train'd to arms in stern misfortune's field , Shall he be guilty of their bireling ...
Страница 29
... whistling glee , Proud o ' the height o ' some bit half - lang tree : The boary morns precede the sunny days , Mild , calm , serene , wide spreads the noon - tide blaze , [ rays . While the thick gossamer waves wanton in the " Twas in ...
... whistling glee , Proud o ' the height o ' some bit half - lang tree : The boary morns precede the sunny days , Mild , calm , serene , wide spreads the noon - tide blaze , [ rays . While the thick gossamer waves wanton in the " Twas in ...
Страница 40
... whistling wings . Let warlocks grim , an ' wither'd hags , Tell how wi ' you on ragweed nags , They skim the muirs , an ' dizzy crags , Wi ' wicked speed ; And in kirkyards renew their leagues , Owre howkit dead . Thence countra wives ...
... whistling wings . Let warlocks grim , an ' wither'd hags , Tell how wi ' you on ragweed nags , They skim the muirs , an ' dizzy crags , Wi ' wicked speed ; And in kirkyards renew their leagues , Owre howkit dead . Thence countra wives ...
Страница 46
... ages ; Now moths deform , in shapeless tetters , Their unknown pages . ' Then fareweel hopes o ' laurel - boughs , To garland my poetic brows ! Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs Are whistling thrang , 46 SCOTISH POEMS .
... ages ; Now moths deform , in shapeless tetters , Their unknown pages . ' Then fareweel hopes o ' laurel - boughs , To garland my poetic brows ! Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs Are whistling thrang , 46 SCOTISH POEMS .
Страница 47
Robert Burns. Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs Are whistling thrang , An ' teach the lanely heights an ' howes My rustic sang . I'll wander on , with tentless heed How never - halting moments speed , Till fate shall snap the ...
Robert Burns. Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs Are whistling thrang , An ' teach the lanely heights an ' howes My rustic sang . I'll wander on , with tentless heed How never - halting moments speed , Till fate shall snap the ...
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ae night amang auld baith bard Birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses braes braw Brig brunstane Burns cauld charms dear deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flow'rs frae gies glen grace gude guid hame heart Heav'n honest honour ilka ither John Anderson John Barleycorn lasses lassie leuk Lord Lord Gregory maun mony morning mourn muckle Muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never o'er owre pleasure plough poet poor pow'r pray'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS ROBERT FERGUSSON Robin Gray round Samson's dead Scotish Scotland sing skelpin song sugh sweet Syne ta'en tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro unco weary weel Whare Whistle Whyles wild Willie wind wooing o't ye'll ye're
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Страница 92 - 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 !
Страница 94 - From scenes like these, old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, 'An honest man's the noblest work of God'; And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp?
Страница 91 - Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave ; The mother, wi...
Страница 142 - Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a
Страница 224 - Man for a That IS there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that ? The coward slave we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Страница 90 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; The short'ning winter-day is near a close; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose: The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor 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.
Страница xvii - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause— and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn, and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame ; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend — whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit...
Страница 160 - O Death ! the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best ! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest ! The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn ; But, Oh ! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn ! A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEA TH.
Страница 142 - Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'. As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious : The piper loud and louder blew ; The dancers quick and quicker flew ; They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, 'Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, And coost her duddies to the wark, And linket at it in her sark ! Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been queans A' plump and strapping, in their teens ; Their sarks instead o...
Страница 91 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor 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...