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amang appearance auld banks bonnie BRIG Burns Burns's called composed dead dear death early Edinburgh Epistle face fair farm fate fear field frae give green guid hand head hear heart Heaven hills honest hour Jean John joys kind lasses less letter light lines live Lord mair Mary maun means meet mind mony morn Mourn Nature ne'er never night o'er owre perhaps poem poet poor pride probably rhyme round says Scotland Scots Scottish side sing song spring stanza stream sweet tears tell thee thou thought thro Till turn unco wander weary weel wild wind winter wish worth young
Page 177 - See the front o' battle lour: See approach proud Edward's power, — Chains and slaverie! Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa?
Page 47 - 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 !
Page 151 - MORISON 0 0 MARY, at thy window be, It is the wish'd, the trysted hour ! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor: How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro...
Page 231 - One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals • Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Page 184 - On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee; Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Page 146 - 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.
Page 48 - That thus they all shall meet in future days ; There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear ; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Page 107 - 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, thro' 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 ;...
Page 44 - 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 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...