The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and a Criticism on His Writings; to which are Prefixed, Some Observations on the Character and Condition of the Scottish Peasantry, Volume 3F. Lucas, jun. and J. Cushing, 1815 |
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Página v
... this address with the venal soul of a servile author , looking for a continuation of those favours : I was bred to the plough , and am independent . I come to claim the common Scot- tish name with you , my illustrious countrymen ; and.
... this address with the venal soul of a servile author , looking for a continuation of those favours : I was bred to the plough , and am independent . I come to claim the common Scot- tish name with you , my illustrious countrymen ; and.
Página xi
... soul , Dear S **** , the sleest paukie thief , Does haughty Gaul invasion threat ? Dweller in yon dungeon dark , Edina ! Scotia's darling seat , 291 192 · 244 259 46 123 191 156 187 • 229 244 232 49 282 166 131 Expect na , sir , in this ...
... soul , Dear S **** , the sleest paukie thief , Does haughty Gaul invasion threat ? Dweller in yon dungeon dark , Edina ! Scotia's darling seat , 291 192 · 244 259 46 123 191 156 187 • 229 244 232 49 282 166 131 Expect na , sir , in this ...
Página 10
... soul o ' plays an ' pranks ! Accept a bardie's humble thanks ! When wanting thee , what tuneless cranks Are my poor verses ! Thou comes they rattle i ' their ranks At ither's a --- s ! Thee , Ferintosh ! O sadly lost ! Scotland lament ...
... soul o ' plays an ' pranks ! Accept a bardie's humble thanks ! When wanting thee , what tuneless cranks Are my poor verses ! Thou comes they rattle i ' their ranks At ither's a --- s ! Thee , Ferintosh ! O sadly lost ! Scotland lament ...
Página 30
... soul of dedicating prose ? No ! though his artless strains he rudely sings , And throws his hand uncouthly o'er the strings , He glows with all the spirit of the bard , Fame , honest fame , his great , his dear reward . Still , if some ...
... soul of dedicating prose ? No ! though his artless strains he rudely sings , And throws his hand uncouthly o'er the strings , He glows with all the spirit of the bard , Fame , honest fame , his great , his dear reward . Still , if some ...
Página 36
... soul - ennobling bards heroic ditties sung . O had M'Lauchlan * , thairm - inspiring sage , Been there to hear this heavenly band engage , When thro ' his dear strathspeys they bore with Highland rage ; Or when they struck old Scotia's ...
... soul - ennobling bards heroic ditties sung . O had M'Lauchlan * , thairm - inspiring sage , Been there to hear this heavenly band engage , When thro ' his dear strathspeys they bore with Highland rage ; Or when they struck old Scotia's ...
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The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and a ..., Volume 3 Robert Burns Visualização completa - 1815 |
Termos e frases comuns
aith amang auld baith bard birks of Aberfeldy blate blaw blest blythe bonnie bonnie lasses bosom braes braw Brig bright brunstane burn charms claut dear death deil dimin e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate flow'rs frae gang gies glen grace guid hame heart Heav'n Highland honest honour ilka ither John Anderson John Barleycorn Kilmarnock lasses lassie luve maun mony morn mourn muckle muse mutchkin nae mair ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure plough poem poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS Samson's dead scene Scotland sing skelpin song soul sugh sweet Syne tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro Tune unco weary weel Whare whistle Whyles wild wind winna wretch ye'll ye're
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Página 104 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps ' Dundee's ' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive *• Martyrs...
Página 101 - An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil. Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun', Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin A cannie errand to a neebor town : Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu...
Página 105 - 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.
Página 104 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How his first followers and servants sped — The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command.
Página 256 - MY luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June : O, my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I : And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a
Página 149 - 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
Página 109 - Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind ? If not, why am I subject to His cruelty or scorn ? Or why has man the will and pow'r To make his fellow mourn...
Página 182 - And win the keystane of the brig; There, at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross! But ere the keystane she could make, The fient a tail she had to shake; For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tarn wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettle!
Página 111 - mid renewing storms. Is it departing pangs my soul alarms ; Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms ; I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, Forgive my foul offence...
Página 182 - And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main, Till first ae caper, syne anither, Tam tint his reason a' thegither And roars out 'Weel done, Cutty-sark!' And in an instant all was dark; And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop!