The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life , and a Criticism on His Writing. To which are Prefixed, Some Observations on the Character and Condition of the Scottish Peasantry, Հատոր 4T. Cadell and W. Davies ; and W. Creech at Edinburgh, 1813 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 43–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ xxi
... bosom which folly once fired . How cruel are the parents • How lang and dreary is the night Husband , husband , cease your strife I call no goddess to inspire my strains I gaed a waefu ' gate , yestreen In simmer when the bay was mawn ...
... bosom which folly once fired . How cruel are the parents • How lang and dreary is the night Husband , husband , cease your strife I call no goddess to inspire my strains I gaed a waefu ' gate , yestreen In simmer when the bay was mawn ...
Էջ xxiii
... bosom burns The friend whom wild from wisdom's way The hunter lo'es the morning sun • The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill The lovely lass o ' Inverness 296 • 44 380 • • 293 · 279 277 349 163 125 403 14 330 122 • 382 · 372 ...
... bosom burns The friend whom wild from wisdom's way The hunter lo'es the morning sun • The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill The lovely lass o ' Inverness 296 • 44 380 • • 293 · 279 277 349 163 125 403 14 330 122 • 382 · 372 ...
Էջ 17
... fragrant shade , I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours , on angel wings , Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life , Was my sweet Highland Mary . VOL . IV . C Wi ' Wi ' mony a vow , and lock'd embrace , 17 VOL ...
... fragrant shade , I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours , on angel wings , Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life , Was my sweet Highland Mary . VOL . IV . C Wi ' Wi ' mony a vow , and lock'd embrace , 17 VOL ...
Էջ 18
... bosom's core , Shall live my Highland Mary . MY DEAR SIR , 14th November , 1792 . I AGREE with you that the song , Ka- tharine Ogie , is very poor stuff , and unworthy , altogether unworthy , of so beautiful an air . I tried to mend it ...
... bosom's core , Shall live my Highland Mary . MY DEAR SIR , 14th November , 1792 . I AGREE with you that the song , Ka- tharine Ogie , is very poor stuff , and unworthy , altogether unworthy , of so beautiful an air . I tried to mend it ...
Էջ 27
... Ha , ha , & c . Something in her bosom wrings , For relief a sigh she brings ; And O , her een , they spak sic things ! Ha , ha , & c . Duncan * A well - known rock in the frith of Clyde . E. Duncan was a lad o ' grace , Ha , 27.
... Ha , ha , & c . Something in her bosom wrings , For relief a sigh she brings ; And O , her een , they spak sic things ! Ha , ha , & c . Duncan * A well - known rock in the frith of Clyde . E. Duncan was a lad o ' grace , Ha , 27.
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The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life , and a ..., Հատոր 4 Robert Burns Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1813 |
Common terms and phrases
ae night ain dear Allan Allan Ramsay alter amang anec anither auld lang syne ballad bard beautiful blithe bonnie bosom braes BURNS Caledonia Cauld charming Chloris CHORUS claute Coila Dainty Davie dear Sir dearest dearie Deil delight Dumfries Duncan Gray Ecclefechan Edinburgh English song English verses fair favourite fine air flowers frae Galla Water give glen hame heart heaven Highland John Anderson lass lassie Lassie wi lea-rig Leiger lines lo'es Lord Gregory lover mair Mary maun melodies merit Mill mony muse Museum Nancy Nanie ne'er never o'er Phillis Pindar pleased pleasure Pleyel poet poetry poor Rob Morris Saw ye Scots Scottish singing stanza suit sung sweet syne taste tell thee thine THOMSON thro tune wander wee thing wild Willie wilt thou young JESSIE
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Էջ 217 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Էջ 125 - Wha will be a traitor knave ? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa...
Էջ 216 - THAT AND A' THAT" Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that! The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Էջ 330 - Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream — Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream ! HIGHLAND MARY Ye banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o...
Էջ 41 - It is the wish'd, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor: How...
Էջ 341 - As fair art thou, my bonie lass, So deep in luve am I : And I will luve thee still, my Dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun : And I will luve thee still, my Dear, While the sands o
Էջ 300 - John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Էջ 216 - A man's a man for a' that ; For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that : The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie, ca'da lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that ; Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that : For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a
Էջ 18 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu...
Էջ 214 - The snawdrap 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...