Poetical works ... chronologically arranged, Volum 11885 |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Amang auld baith Ballochmyle bard blest bonie lass braw brunstane Burns canna cauld Cessnock charms dear death deil dinna e'en e'er EPISTLE Ev'n ev'ry fair faith Farewell fear Findlay frae Gavin Hamilton gies grace guid hae seen hame heart Heaven herds Highland holy honest honor ither Jean John Barleycorn Kilmarnock Kilmarnock volume kirk laird lassie Lord Mauchline maun mony Mossgiel muckle muse nae mair naething ne'er Netherplace never night o'er plough poem poet poet's poison'd poor pow'r pride rantin rhyme rigs ROBERT BURNS Scotland sing skelpin song stanza sweet taen Tarbolton tell thee thegither There's thou thro twa sparkling rogueish unco verse warl weary weel Whitefoord Whyles WILLIAM SIMSON Willie winna Ye'll ye're young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 125 - An' weary winter comin' fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, 'Till, crash ! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell. That wee bit heap o...
Pàgina 147 - 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 !* he says, with solemn air.
Pàgina 147 - 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? Curse on his perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?
Pàgina 125 - The best laid schemes o mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promised joy. Still thou art blest, compared wi' me ! The present only toucheth thee : But, Och ! I backward cast my e'e On prospects drear ! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an
Pàgina 150 - Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd thro...
Pàgina 224 - 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.
Pàgina 40 - An' tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. But gie me a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O ; An' warly cares, an' warly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O. For you sae douce, ye sneer at this, Ye're nought but senseless asses, O : The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O : Her 'prentice han' she try'd on man, An
Pàgina 151 - Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie, Clos'd under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cootie, To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An
Pàgina 66 - It's no in makin muckle, mair ; It's no in books, it's no in lear, To make us truly blest : If Happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest : Nae treasures nor pleasures Could make us happy lang ; The heart ay's the part ay That makes us right or wrang.
Pàgina 65 - Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods, The sweeping vales and foaming floods, Are free alike to all. In days when daisies deck the ground, And blackbirds whistle clear, With honest joy our hearts will bound, To see the coming year: On braes when we please, then, We'll sit an' sowth a tune; Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, And sing't when we hae done.