Burns Chronicle and Club Directory, Volume 2

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Burns Federation., 1893

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Page 10 - ... promises, kindly stepped in, and carried him away, to where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest ! It is during the time that we lived on this farm, that my little story is most eventful.
Page 156 - 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 112 - O YE, whose cheek the tear of pity stains, Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend ! Here lie the loving husband's dear remains, The tender father, and the gen'rous friend. The pitying heart that felt for human woe ; The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride ; The friend of man, to vice alone a foe ; " For ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side.
Page 151 - An' syne they think to climb Parnassus By dint o' Greek! Gie me ae spark o' nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire; Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire At pleugh or cart, My muse, tho' hamely in attire, May touch the heart.
Page 166 - THOU lingering star, with lessening ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Page 12 - My Highland lassie was a warm-hearted, charming < young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of the most ardent reciprocal attachment, we met by appointment on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot by the banks of Ayr, where we spent the day in taking a farewell before she should embark for the West Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected change of life.
Page 159 - I am nae Poet, in a sense, But just a Rhymer, like, by chance, An' hae to learning nae pretence, Yet, what the matter ? Whene'er my Muse does on me glance, I jingle at her. Your critic-folk may cock their nose, And say, ' How can you e'er propose, You wha ken hardly verse frae prose, To mak a sang ?' But, by your leaves, my learned foes, Ye're maybe wrang.
Page 101 - The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip To haud the wretch in order ; But where ye feel your honour grip, Let that aye be your border ; Its slightest touches, instant pause — Debar a' side pretences ; And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences.
Page 8 - Though, when young, he was bashful and awkward in his intercourse with women, yet when he approached manhood, his attachment to their society became very strong, and he was constantly the victim of some fair enslaver. The symptoms of his passion were often such as nearly to equal those of the celebrated Sappho. I never indeed knew that he fainted, sunk, and died away; but the agitations of his mind and body exceeded anything of the kind I ever knew in real life.
Page 106 - When under the necessity of being absent while he was speaking, she seemed to regret, as a real loss, that she had missed what the good man had said. This worthy woman, Agnes Brown, had the most thorough esteem for her husband of any woman I ever knew. I can by no means wonder that she highly esteemed him ; for I myself have always considered William Burnes...

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