Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, Հատոր 1 |
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Amang ance auld Bard bear beneath better bonie Brig comes dear Death Deil door doubt draw drink e'er Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith faſt fate fear firſt fome foul frae gang gies grace guid hand head hear heart hill honeſt hour humble ither juſt keep lads land laſt leſs light mark meet mind monie morn muckle muſt Nae mair ne'er never night o'er owre play pleaſure poor pow'r pride race rhyme round ſae Samſon's dead ſaw ſay Scotch Scotland ſee ſet ſhe ſome ſtill ſweet tell thee There's thou thought thro Till true unco weary weel Whare Whyles winds Winter worth ye'll young
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 47 - Leeze me on Drink ! it gi'es us mair Than either School or College : It kindles Wit, it waukens Lair, It pangs us fou o
Էջ 217 - It's no in making muckle, mair : It's no in books, it's no in lear, To make us truly blest : If happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest : Nae treasures, nor pleasures, Could make us happy lang ; The heart ay's the part ay, That makes us right or wrang. Think ye, that sic as you and I, Wha drudge and drive thro...
Էջ 34 - To stan" or rin, Till skelp — a shot — they're aff, a' throw'ther, To save their skin. But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, Say, such is royal George's will, An' there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow.
Էջ 159 - Gies now and then a wallop, What ragings must his veins convulse That still eternal gallop: Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, Right on ye scud your sea-way; But in the teeth o' baith to sail, It maks an unco leeway.
Էջ 191 - Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As thro' the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scar it strays; Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle ; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night.
Էջ 161 - 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.
Էջ 106 - An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will send him linkin, To your black pit ; But, faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkin, An
Էջ 100 - To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An' hear us squeel! Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame; Far kend an' noted is thy name; An' tho' yon lowin heugh's thy hame, Thou travels far; An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, Nor blate nor scaur. Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion For prey, a...
Էջ 231 - Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here shall close ne'er But with the closing tomb!
Էջ 159 - And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Your better art o' hidin'. Think, when your Castigated pulse Gies now and then a wallop ! What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop ! Wi
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| Վերնագիր | Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, Հատոր 1 Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, Robert Burns |
| Հեղինակ | Robert Burns |
| Edition | reprint |
| Հրատարակիչ | Adam Neill and Company, 1800 |
| Original from | Նյու Յորքի Հանրային գրադարան |
| Digitized | 14 Դեկտեմբեր 2006 |
| Length | 287 էջ |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |