The Works of Robert Burns: With His Life, Volume 2 |
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Page ii
... feelings- the loves , the griefs , the hopes , the fears — in his own breast ; to find some kind of counterpoise to the struggles of a world , always an alien scene , a task uncouth to the poetical mind - these were his mo- tives for ...
... feelings- the loves , the griefs , the hopes , the fears — in his own breast ; to find some kind of counterpoise to the struggles of a world , always an alien scene , a task uncouth to the poetical mind - these were his mo- tives for ...
Page 21
... feelings dear ! The smile of love , the friendly tear , The sympathetic glow ! Long since , this world's thorny ways Had number'd out my weary days , Had it not been for you ! Fate still has blest me with a friend , In every care and ...
... feelings dear ! The smile of love , the friendly tear , The sympathetic glow ! Long since , this world's thorny ways Had number'd out my weary days , Had it not been for you ! Fate still has blest me with a friend , In every care and ...
Page 35
... feeling , for he is gentle , both in word and deed , to his “ Auld Mare . " He recollects when she bore him triumphantly home when mellow , from markets and other meetings : how she ploughed the stiffest land and faced the steepest brae ...
... feeling , for he is gentle , both in word and deed , to his “ Auld Mare . " He recollects when she bore him triumphantly home when mellow , from markets and other meetings : how she ploughed the stiffest land and faced the steepest brae ...
Page 67
... , and sometimes laid his wallets aside and performed a sort of rustic interlude , called Auld Glenae , " with no little spirit and feeling . 66 " 6 DEATH AND DR . HORNBOOK . A TRUE STORY . F 2 THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS . 67.
... , and sometimes laid his wallets aside and performed a sort of rustic interlude , called Auld Glenae , " with no little spirit and feeling . 66 " 6 DEATH AND DR . HORNBOOK . A TRUE STORY . F 2 THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS . 67.
Page 184
... feeling and fancy.— " For instance , he calls his muse The tapetless ramfeezled hizzie , ' and complains of being himself— Forjesket sair , wi ' weary legs . ' Now , I sorely suspect , that though forjesket may pass , both ' tapetless ...
... feeling and fancy.— " For instance , he calls his muse The tapetless ramfeezled hizzie , ' and complains of being himself— Forjesket sair , wi ' weary legs . ' Now , I sorely suspect , that though forjesket may pass , both ' tapetless ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aiken aith amang ance auld baith bard blate blest bonnie bonnie lasses braw brunstane Burns canna cauld chiel dear deil dinna e'en e'er epistle Ev'n ev'ry fair faith frae gaun Gavin Hamilton gien gies grace gude guid Halloween hame Hamilton haud hear heart heaven holy honest honour humble ither John Highlandman Kilmarnock laird lasses Mailie Mauchline maun monie Mossgiel mourn muckle muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never night o'er out-owre owre owre the sea pleasure plough poem Poet Poet's poetic poison'd poor pow'r rhyme ROBERT BURNS rustic Samson's dead says Scotland sing skelpin song sweet ta'en Tarbolton tell thee thegither There's thou thought thro tune unco verse weary weel whare Whyles Willie winna Ye'll ye're
Popular passages
Page 278 - O, wad some Power the giftie gie us to see oursels as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us an' foolish notion: what airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, and ev'n Devotion!
Page 257 - 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 255 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page; How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.
Page 146 - Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain. These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art.
Page 267 - WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Page 228 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Page 255 - 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 258 - And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!
Page 338 - I've notic'd, on our Laird's court-day, An' mony a time my heart's been wae, Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash, How they maun thole a factor's snash : He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear. He'll apprehend them, poind their gear ; While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble ! I see how folk live that hae riches ; But surely poor folk maun be wretches.
Page 175 - A set o' dull conceited hashes Confuse their brains in college classes ! They gang in stirks, and come out asses, Plain truth to speak; An' syne they think to climb Parnassus By dint o