Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
attend Bard beauty brother character Club composed continued dear death Dumfries earth Edinburgh English eternal fair Farewell farm father feel fields fire flowers French gave genius give glory hand head heart Highlands hills honest hope hour human independence John keep kind king knew labor land leave letter light literary lived Lodge look Lord mankind Mary meet mind months mountain Muses native nature never night o'er patriotic plain pleasure plough poems poet poetic poetry poor poverty President pride rest rich rise Robert Burns rustic Scotch Scotland seemed side social song soul spirit streams sweet teach thee thou thought tion took town truth turn virtue wandering wife wild write young
Seite 39 - Scotia, my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
Seite 124 - Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? 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...
Seite 38 - ... hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compared with this, how poor religion's pride...
Seite 38 - 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.
Seite 114 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large, and of a dark cast, which glowed (I say literally glowed) when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head, though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time.
Seite 37 - 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 !* he says, with solemn air.
Seite 45 - I was not so presumptuous as to imagine that I could make verses like printed ones, composed by men who had Greek and Latin; but my girl sung a song, which was said to be composed by a small country laird's son, on one of his father's maids, with whom he was in love ! and I saw no reason why I might not rhyme as well as he...
Seite 68 - 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 120 - And they hae taen his very heart's blood, And drank it round and round; And still the more and more they drank, Their joy did more abound. John Barleycorn was a hero bold, Of noble enterprise ; For if you do but taste his blood, Twill make your courage rise. 'Twill make a man forget his woe; 'Twill heighten all his joy : 'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, Tho
Seite 37 - 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.