The Burns Scrap Book: Or Odd Moments with the Lovers of Scotia's Darling PoetJohn Dawson Ross L.D. Robertson, 1893 - 256 pages |
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Page 26
... fame had even crossed the Border , and ventured into England . Letters , with words of encouragement and advice , kept pouring in upon him from all classes of people . Some of these pronounced him to be the greatest poet that his ...
... fame had even crossed the Border , and ventured into England . Letters , with words of encouragement and advice , kept pouring in upon him from all classes of people . Some of these pronounced him to be the greatest poet that his ...
Page 39
... fame , and , particularly , the publication of his posthumous works . He said he was well aware that his death would create some noise , and that every scrap of his writing would be revived against him to the injury of his future ...
... fame , and , particularly , the publication of his posthumous works . He said he was well aware that his death would create some noise , and that every scrap of his writing would be revived against him to the injury of his future ...
Page 40
... fame . " He lamented that he had written many epigrams on persons against whom he entertained no enmity , and whose characters he would be sorry to wound ; and many indifferent poetical pieces , which he feared would now , with all ...
... fame . " He lamented that he had written many epigrams on persons against whom he entertained no enmity , and whose characters he would be sorry to wound ; and many indifferent poetical pieces , which he feared would now , with all ...
Page 60
... fame they may not share ! Who would not wish that her long day's decline Had peaceful setting , unsuffused with tears , Who bore to Scotland him , our Bard divine , Immortal as the years ? He sleeps among the eternal ; nothing mars His ...
... fame they may not share ! Who would not wish that her long day's decline Had peaceful setting , unsuffused with tears , Who bore to Scotland him , our Bard divine , Immortal as the years ? He sleeps among the eternal ; nothing mars His ...
Page 64
... fame of the great masters of verse who have flourished since his time . They have done , or are doing their own work . The Homeric march and rhythm of Scott , the sweetness and truth and beauty of Tennyson , the profound and somewhat ...
... fame of the great masters of verse who have flourished since his time . They have done , or are doing their own work . The Homeric march and rhythm of Scott , the sweetness and truth and beauty of Tennyson , the profound and somewhat ...
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The Burns Scrap Book: Or Odd Moments with the Lovers of Scotia's Darling Poet John Dawson Ross No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Agnes Brown Alloway Kirk Auld Langsyne Ayrshire bard beautiful birth blaw bonnie born braes brother Burns Club Byron charm Cotter's dear death Doon Dumfries Earl of Glencairn Edinburgh edition fame farm father feelings frae friends genius Glasgow Glencairn heart Highland Mary honor human immortal inspiration Isa Craig James James Hogg Jean John Kilmarnock lads land lassies letter lived Lodge Mauchline melody memory of Burns mind morning Mossgiel muse national poet native Nature never night o'er patriotic peasant Perthshire ploughman poems poet's poetic poetry poor praise proud Robert Burns Robie Burns sang says scenes Scotia's Scotland Scots wha hae Scotsmen Scottish Scottish poet Shanter sing song soul spirit sung sweet Tannahill Tarbolton thee thou tion took true Twas verse Wallace Westminster Abbey wife William writing wrote
Popular passages
Page 193 - 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.
Page 207 - THAT AND 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
Page 26 - 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.
Page 196 - 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.
Page 87 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Page 193 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Page 192 - 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 209 - It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century ; — But better far it is to speak One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of men...
Page 76 - Strong sense, deep feeling, passions strong, A hate of tyrant and of knave, A love of right, a scorn of wrong, Of coward and of slave; A kind, true heart, a spirit high, That could not fear and would not bow, Were written in his manly eye And on his manly brow.
Page 201 - But, oh! fell Death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early! Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary!