The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and a Criticism on His Writings; to which are Prefixed, Some Observations on the Character and Condition of the Scottish Peasantry, Volume 3F. Lucas, jun. and J. Cushing, 1815 - Scotland |
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Page vi
... tell the world that I glory in the title . I come to congratulate my country , that the blood of her ancient heroes still runs uncontaminated ; and that from your courage , knowledge , and pub- lie spirit , she may expect protection ...
... tell the world that I glory in the title . I come to congratulate my country , that the blood of her ancient heroes still runs uncontaminated ; and that from your courage , knowledge , and pub- lie spirit , she may expect protection ...
Page xii
... tell , 255 My honour'd colonel , deep I feel , 285 My lord , I know , your noble ear , 193 My lov'd , my honour'd , much - respected friend ! 102 My Peggy's face , my Peggy's form , 289 Nae gentle dames , tho ' e'er so fair , " 278 No ...
... tell , 255 My honour'd colonel , deep I feel , 285 My lord , I know , your noble ear , 193 My lov'd , my honour'd , much - respected friend ! 102 My Peggy's face , my Peggy's form , 289 Nae gentle dames , tho ' e'er so fair , " 278 No ...
Page 4
... tell what new taxation's comin , An ' ferlie at the folk in Lon'on . As bleak - fac'd Hallowmass returns , They get the jovial , ranting kirns , When rural life , o ' ev'ry station , Unite in common recreation ; Love blinks , Wit slaps ...
... tell what new taxation's comin , An ' ferlie at the folk in Lon'on . As bleak - fac'd Hallowmass returns , They get the jovial , ranting kirns , When rural life , o ' ev'ry station , Unite in common recreation ; Love blinks , Wit slaps ...
Page 6
... tell me , master Cæsar , Sure great folk's life's a life o ' pleasure ? Nae cauld or hunger e'er can steer them , The vera thought o't need na fear them . CESAR . L - d , man , were ye but whiles whare I am , The gentles ye wad ne'er ...
... tell me , master Cæsar , Sure great folk's life's a life o ' pleasure ? Nae cauld or hunger e'er can steer them , The vera thought o't need na fear them . CESAR . L - d , man , were ye but whiles whare I am , The gentles ye wad ne'er ...
Page 10
... tell , Poor plackless devils like mysel ! It sets you ill , Wi ' bitter , dearthfu ' wines to mell , Or foreign gill . May gravels round his blather wrench , An ' gouts torment him inch by inch , Wha twists his gruntle wi ' a glunch O ...
... tell , Poor plackless devils like mysel ! It sets you ill , Wi ' bitter , dearthfu ' wines to mell , Or foreign gill . May gravels round his blather wrench , An ' gouts torment him inch by inch , Wha twists his gruntle wi ' a glunch O ...
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Common terms and phrases
aith amang auld baith bard birks of Aberfeldy blate blaw blest blythe bonnie bonnie lasses bosom braes braw Brig bright brunstane burn charms claut dear death deil dimin e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate flow'rs frae gang gies glen grace guid hame heart Heav'n Highland honest honour ilka ither John Anderson John Barleycorn Kilmarnock lasses lassie luve maun mony morn mourn muckle muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure plough poem poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS Samson's dead scene Scotland sing skelpin song soul sugh sweet Syne tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro Tune unco weary weel Whare whistle Whyles wild wind winna wretch ye'll ye're
Popular passages
Page 104 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps ' Dundee's ' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive *• Martyrs...
Page 101 - An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil. Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun', Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin A cannie errand to a neebor town : Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu...
Page 105 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' 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 104 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How his first followers and servants sped — The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command.
Page 256 - MY luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June : O, my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I : And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a
Page 149 - And they hae taen his very heart's blood, And drank it round and round; And still the more and more they drank, Their joy did more abound. John Barleycorn was a hero bold, Of noble enterprise ; For if you do but taste his blood, Twill make your courage rise. 'Twill make a man forget his woe; 'Twill heighten all his joy : 'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, Tho
Page 109 - Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind ? If not, why am I subject to His cruelty or scorn ? Or why has man the will and pow'r To make his fellow mourn...
Page 182 - And win the keystane of the brig; There, at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross! But ere the keystane she could make, The fient a tail she had to shake; For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tarn wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettle!
Page 111 - mid renewing storms. Is it departing pangs my soul alarms ; Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms ; I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, Forgive my foul offence...
Page 182 - And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main, Till first ae caper, syne anither, Tam tint his reason a' thegither And roars out 'Weel done, Cutty-sark!' And in an instant all was dark; 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!