The prose works of Robert BurnsJ. Marshall, 1816 - 705 pages |
From inside the book
Page 159
... I " always keep holy , after having washed myself , " and offered up my morning devotions , I as- cended the high hill of Bagdat , in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer . " 66 " We know nothing , or next to ...
... I " always keep holy , after having washed myself , " and offered up my morning devotions , I as- cended the high hill of Bagdat , in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer . " 66 " We know nothing , or next to ...
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Common terms and phrases
acquaintance admire Ayrshire ballad bard beautiful bosom BURNS character charming Coila compliments copy Cumnock CUNNINGHAM dare dear Madam DEAR SIR Duke of Athole Dumfries DUNLOP Earl of Glencairn Edinburgh elegant Ellisland English Eolian esteem excise fancy farm favour favourite feel FINTRY flatter follies fortune friendship genius gentleman give gratitude happy heart honest honoured friend hope House of Stewart human humble humour idea inclosed Jedburgh kind lady late letter look Lord Mauchline meet merit mind miserable muse never night Nithsdale noble obliged opinion perhaps pleased pleasure Poems Poet poetic poetry poor present pride racter reason rhyme ROBERT BURNS Robert Fergusson Scotland Scots Scottish sentiment shew sincerely song soon soul spirit stanzas tell thee thing THOMSON thou thought tion tune verses wish worth write
Popular passages
Page 20 - ... mortal, I have various sources of pleasure and enjoyment, which are, in a manner, peculiar to myself, or some here and there such other outof-the-way person. Such is the peculiar pleasure I take in the season of WINTER, more than the rest of the year. This, I believe, may be partly owing to my misfortunes giving my mind a melancholy cast : but there is something even in the ' Mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, Abrupt, and deep stretch'd o'er the buried earth," which raises the mind to a serious...
Page 159 - I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the hare-bell, the fox-glove, the wild-brier rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight.
Page 496 - Her pure and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one might almost say her body thought.
Page 100 - The gloomy night is gathering fast — when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition.
Page 84 - This cultivated the latent seeds of poetry ; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look-out in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more sceptical than I am in such matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle terrorS.
Page 100 - This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde...
Page 87 - In short, she, altogether unwittingly to herself, initiated me in that delicious passion, which, in spite of acid disappointment, gin-horse prudence, and book-worm philosophy, I hold to be the first of human joys, our dearest blessing here below...
Page 375 - Scotland, that it was Robert Bruce's march at the battle of Bannockburn. This thought, in my solitary wanderings, warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and independence, which I threw into a kind of Scottish ode, fitted to the air, that one might suppose to be the gallant Royal Scot's address to his heroic followers on that eventful morning.
Page 605 - I saw in the visions of my head upon my bed, and behold, a watcher and an holy one came down from heaven. He cried aloud, and said thus, Hew down the tree, and cut off his branches ; shake off his leaves, and scatter his fruit; let the beasts get away from under it, and the fowls from his branches.
Page 434 - The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn ; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o...