The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: With Notes, Glossary, Index of First Lines, and Chronological ListH. Frowde, 1896 - 635 Seiten |
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Seite 7
... sang ; Wi ' jumping and thumping The very girdle rang . First , niest the fire , in auld red rags , Ane sat , weel brac'd wi ' mealy bags , And knapsack a ' in order ; His doxy lay within his arm ; Wi ' usquebae and blankets warm , She ...
... sang ; Wi ' jumping and thumping The very girdle rang . First , niest the fire , in auld red rags , Ane sat , weel brac'd wi ' mealy bags , And knapsack a ' in order ; His doxy lay within his arm ; Wi ' usquebae and blankets warm , She ...
Seite 14
... sang that night . I am a bard of no regard Wi ' gentlefolks , and a ' that ; But Homer - like , the glowrin ' byke , Frae town to town I draw that . 220 230 240 CHORUS . For a ' that , and a ' that , And twice as meikle's a ' that ; I ...
... sang that night . I am a bard of no regard Wi ' gentlefolks , and a ' that ; But Homer - like , the glowrin ' byke , Frae town to town I draw that . 220 230 240 CHORUS . For a ' that , and a ' that , And twice as meikle's a ' that ; I ...
Seite 15
... sang , A ballad o ' the best ; He rising , rejoicing , Between his twa Deborahs , Looks round him , an ' found them Impatient for the chorus . 260 275 285 See the smoking bowl before us , Mark our jovial The Jolly Beggars . 15.
... sang , A ballad o ' the best ; He rising , rejoicing , Between his twa Deborahs , Looks round him , an ' found them Impatient for the chorus . 260 275 285 See the smoking bowl before us , Mark our jovial The Jolly Beggars . 15.
Seite 39
... sang , Was made lang syne - Lord knows how lang . He was a gash an ' faithfu ' tyke , As ever lap a sheugh or dyke ; His honest , sonsie , bawsent face Aye gat him friends in ilka place . His breast was white , his tousie back Weel clad ...
... sang , Was made lang syne - Lord knows how lang . He was a gash an ' faithfu ' tyke , As ever lap a sheugh or dyke ; His honest , sonsie , bawsent face Aye gat him friends in ilka place . His breast was white , his tousie back Weel clad ...
Seite 68
... sang That's unco easy said aye ; The poets , too , a venal gang , Wi ' rhymes well - turn'd an ' ready , Wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang , But aye unerring steady , On sic a day . For me , before a monarch's face- Ev'n there I winna ...
... sang That's unco easy said aye ; The poets , too , a venal gang , Wi ' rhymes well - turn'd an ' ready , Wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang , But aye unerring steady , On sic a day . For me , before a monarch's face- Ev'n there I winna ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
aboon amang auld auld lang syne baith banks bard Birks of Aberfeldy blast blaw blest blythe bonnie lass bosom braes braw breast Burns canna cauld charms dear dearie Deil e'en e'er EPITAPH Ev'n ev'ry fair Farewell fate Fête Champêtre flower fortune's frae Gala Water GAVIN HAMILTON glen grace gude hame heart Heaven Highland Highland laddie honest ilka Jamie Kilmarnock laddie laird lassie lo'es Lord Mary Mauchline maun meikle mony morn Muse nae mair nane ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure poem poet poor pride roar sang Scotland sing soul sweet syne tear tell thee There's thine thro thyme unco wander weary weel Whigs whyles wild Willie wind winna wooing o't ye'll ye're young ΙΟ
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 310 - 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' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Seite 318 - 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
Seite 107 - An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, Till crash ! the cruel coulter past, Out thro' thy cell. That wee bit heap o
Seite 111 - O Death ! the poor man's dearest friend . The kindest and the best ! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest ! The Great, the wealthy fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn ; But, Oh! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn...
Seite 28 - When men display to congregations wide, Devotion's every grace, except the heart ! The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert, The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ; But, haply, in some cottage far apart, May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul; And in His book of life the inmates poor enrol.
Seite 310 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O
Seite 26 - 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 !
Seite 25 - But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neibor lad cam o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek; Wi...
Seite 27 - 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.
Seite 143 - Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause — and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave.