The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Band 38Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 76
Seite iii
... Poor Mailie , Poor Mailie's Elegy , To J. S **** , A Dream , 72 • 88 79 87 93 94 98 . 101 . 103 109 The Vision , Address to the Unco Guid , or.
... Poor Mailie , Poor Mailie's Elegy , To J. S **** , A Dream , 72 • 88 79 87 93 94 98 . 101 . 103 109 The Vision , Address to the Unco Guid , or.
Seite 15
... poor man from his birth , and an exciseman by necessity ; but I will say it the sterling of his honest worth , poverty could not debase ; and his independent , British spirit , oppression might bend , but could not sub- due . " This is ...
... poor man from his birth , and an exciseman by necessity ; but I will say it the sterling of his honest worth , poverty could not debase ; and his independent , British spirit , oppression might bend , but could not sub- due . " This is ...
Seite 19
... knew and lamented , and that spirit of inde- pendence which he claimed , and so frequently ex- hibited , preserved him from injustice or selfish in- sensibility . He died poor , but not in debt LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS . 19.
... knew and lamented , and that spirit of inde- pendence which he claimed , and so frequently ex- hibited , preserved him from injustice or selfish in- sensibility . He died poor , but not in debt LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS . 19.
Seite 20
With Lives of the Authors Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh. sensibility . He died poor , but not in debt , and left behind him a name , the fame of which will not be soon eclipsed . Of his poems , which have been so often printed , and so ...
With Lives of the Authors Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh. sensibility . He died poor , but not in debt , and left behind him a name , the fame of which will not be soon eclipsed . Of his poems , which have been so often printed , and so ...
Seite 34
... poor , unfortunate Fergusson , he , with equal unaffected sincerity , declares , that , even in his highest pulse of vanity , he has not the most distant pretensions . These two justly admired Scotch poets he has often had in his eye in ...
... poor , unfortunate Fergusson , he , with equal unaffected sincerity , declares , that , even in his highest pulse of vanity , he has not the most distant pretensions . These two justly admired Scotch poets he has often had in his eye in ...
Inhalt
253 | |
256 | |
267 | |
274 | |
280 | |
282 | |
293 | |
299 | |
87 | |
93 | |
101 | |
109 | |
114 | |
120 | |
125 | |
131 | |
148 | |
159 | |
165 | |
174 | |
178 | |
184 | |
246 | |
306 | |
312 | |
318 | |
319 | |
325 | |
331 | |
337 | |
344 | |
350 | |
352 | |
358 | |
365 | |
371 | |
378 | |
384 | |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
amang auld auld lang syne baith bard Beneath blate blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses bosom braes braw breast BRIG brunstane Burns canna cauld charms dear dearie deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flowers frae gies guid hame haud hear heart Heav'n honest honour ither John Barleycorn lasses lassie Lord Gregory Mailie maun mony morn mourn muckle muse nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor never night o'er out-owre owre pleasure pleugh poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic Samson's dead Scotia's Scotland sing skelpin SONG soul sugh sweet Syne ta'en tears tell thee There's thou thro toil Tune unco wander weary weel Whare whistling Whyles wild Willie winds wretch XXXVIII ye'll ye're youthful
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 165 - 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 369 - Our toils obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on namely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that? Gi'e fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a
Seite 164 - 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 175 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...
Seite 251 - A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the Borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm.-— Nae man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches, Tam maun ride ; That hour o...
Seite 368 - 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
Seite 175 - Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine — no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!
Seite 253 - The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze, Thro, ilka bore the beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing. Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the Devil!
Seite 286 - Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O 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 hallow'd grove Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, To live one day of parting love...
Seite 255 - 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! she starts before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When 'Catch the thief!' resounds aloud; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.