The Works of Robert Burns: With His Life, Volume 4 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 19
Page v
... .............................. HER DADDIE FORBAD .... UP IN THE MORNING EARLY .......... THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER ..... .................................... . HEY , THE DUSTY MILLER .... .................................
... .............................. HER DADDIE FORBAD .... UP IN THE MORNING EARLY .......... THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER ..... .................................... . HEY , THE DUSTY MILLER .... .................................
Page 25
... morning , The rosy dawn , the springing grass , With early gems adorning : Her eyes outshine the radiant beanis That gild the passing shower , And glitter o'er the crystal streams , And cheer each fresh'ning flower . II . Her lips ...
... morning , The rosy dawn , the springing grass , With early gems adorning : Her eyes outshine the radiant beanis That gild the passing shower , And glitter o'er the crystal streams , And cheer each fresh'ning flower . II . Her lips ...
Page 33
... morning dews . And maun I still on Menie doat , And bear the scorn that's in her e'e ? For it's jet , jet black , and like a hawk , And winna let a body be . II . In vain to me the cowslips blaw , In vain to me the vi'lets spring ; In ...
... morning dews . And maun I still on Menie doat , And bear the scorn that's in her e'e ? For it's jet , jet black , and like a hawk , And winna let a body be . II . In vain to me the cowslips blaw , In vain to me the vi'lets spring ; In ...
Page 39
... morning dawn When rising Phoebus first is seen , When dew - drops twinkle o'er the lawn ; An ' she's twa glancin ' sparklin ' een . III . She's stately like yon youthful ash , That grows the cowslip braes between , And shoots its head ...
... morning dawn When rising Phoebus first is seen , When dew - drops twinkle o'er the lawn ; An ' she's twa glancin ' sparklin ' een . III . She's stately like yon youthful ash , That grows the cowslip braes between , And shoots its head ...
Page 45
... 'd to spy ; Her look was like the morning's eye , Her air like nature's vernal smile , Perfection whisper'd , passing by , Behold the lass o ' Ballochmyle ! III . Fair is the morn in flow'ry May , 45 THE LASS OF BALLOCHMYLE.
... 'd to spy ; Her look was like the morning's eye , Her air like nature's vernal smile , Perfection whisper'd , passing by , Behold the lass o ' Ballochmyle ! III . Fair is the morn in flow'ry May , 45 THE LASS OF BALLOCHMYLE.
Contents
59 | |
66 | |
73 | |
79 | |
83 | |
89 | |
96 | |
103 | |
109 | |
116 | |
123 | |
129 | |
135 | |
141 | |
147 | |
154 | |
161 | |
221 | |
229 | |
237 | |
244 | |
251 | |
257 | |
263 | |
270 | |
277 | |
284 | |
291 | |
298 | |
306 | |
313 | |
319 | |
325 | |
332 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
amang auld Ballochmyle banks Bard beauty birks of Aberfeldy blaw Blithe blythe body kiss bonnie Doon Bonnie lassie bonnie Mary bosom braes braw Burns Charlie Charlie Stewart charms CHORUS Collier Laddie composed daunton dear dearie Deil e'en Ecclefechan Eppie M'Nab fair Farewell favourite flower frae glen green grows bonnie wi gude hame heart heroine Highland laddie ilka Inverness jacobite Jamie John Anderson Kenmure's kiss lady lass lo'e luve lyric Mauchline maun merry miller morning muse Musical Museum naebody Nannie ne'er never night Nith o'er old song owre parcel of rogues Poet Poet's rantin rue grows bonnie says Scotland Scottish sing sparklin strain sweet sweetly thee There's thou thro thyme Tune verses weary weaver weel Whigs wife Willie win my love wind wither'd words wrote ye go ye'll Ye're yon town young
Popular passages
Page 282 - Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun : I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. IV. And fare thee weel, my only luve ! And fare thee weel a-while ! And I will come again, my luve, Tho
Page 143 - helow : Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods ; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer : Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe— My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Page 156 - That sacred hour can I forget, Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love ! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace ; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last! III. Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with
Page 143 - My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe— My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The' birth-place of valour, the country of worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Page 135 - II. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air : There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green, There's not a bonnie bird that sings, III.
Page 157 - Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, And fondly broods with miser care ! Time but th' impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My 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 ? The story of Mary Campbell, and the history of this
Page 14 - prentice han' she try'd on man, An' then she made the lasses, O. Green grow the rashes, O ! Green grow the rashes, O ! The sweetest hours that e'er I spend Are spent amang the lasses, O. The " Green grow the Rashes " of our ancestors had both spirit and freedom.
Page 47 - I. THE gloomy night is gath'ring fast, Loud roars the wild inconstant blast; Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o'er the plain ; The hunter now has left the moor, The scatter'd coveys meet secure ; While here I wander, prest with care, Along the lonely hanks of Ayr.
Page 177 - VI. Yestreen at the valentine's dealing, My heart to my mou' gied a sten ; For thrice I drew ane without failing, And thrice it was written—Tam Glen. VII. The last Halloween I was waukin My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken ; His likeness cam up the house staukin, And the very gray breeks o
Page 140 - By night, by day, a-field, at hame, The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame ; And aye I muse and sing thy name— I only live to love thee. Tho' I were doom'd to wander on Beyond the sea, beyond the sun, Till my last weary sand was run ; Till then—and then I love thee. The