The Works of Robert Burns: Poems formerly published, with some additions, and a history of these poems, by Gilbert BurnsT. Cadell and W. Davies, 1806 |
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Page 37
... stane ! The half asleep start up wi ' fear , An ' think they hear it roarin , When presently it does appear , ' Twas but some neebor snorin Asleep that day . XXIII . ' Twad be owre lang a tale , to tell How monie stories past , An ' how ...
... stane ! The half asleep start up wi ' fear , An ' think they hear it roarin , When presently it does appear , ' Twas but some neebor snorin Asleep that day . XXIII . ' Twad be owre lang a tale , to tell How monie stories past , An ' how ...
Page 39
... stane , gin night are gane , As saft as ony flesh is . There's some are fou o ' love divine ; There's some are fou o ' brandy ; An ' monie jobs that day begin , May end in Houghmagandie Some ither day . : 1 DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOК . A ...
... stane , gin night are gane , As saft as ony flesh is . There's some are fou o ' love divine ; There's some are fou o ' brandy ; An ' monie jobs that day begin , May end in Houghmagandie Some ither day . : 1 DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOК . A ...
Page 54
... stane an ' lime , Compare wi ' bonie Brigs o ' modern time ? There's men o ' taste would tak the Ducat - stream , * Tho ' they should cast the vera sark and swim , Ere * A noted ford , just above the Auld Brig . Ere they would grate ...
... stane an ' lime , Compare wi ' bonie Brigs o ' modern time ? There's men o ' taste would tak the Ducat - stream , * Tho ' they should cast the vera sark and swim , Ere * A noted ford , just above the Auld Brig . Ere they would grate ...
Page 81
... stane of his woes ; Poor Mailie's dead ! Its no the loss o ' warl's gear , That could sae bitter draw the tear , Or mak our bardie , dowie , wear The mourning weed : He's lost a friend and neebor dear , In Mailie dead . Thro ' a ' the ...
... stane of his woes ; Poor Mailie's dead ! Its no the loss o ' warl's gear , That could sae bitter draw the tear , Or mak our bardie , dowie , wear The mourning weed : He's lost a friend and neebor dear , In Mailie dead . Thro ' a ' the ...
Page 120
... stane , amang the heather , Marks out his head , Whare Burns has wrote , in rhyming blether , Tam Samson's dead ! There low he lies , in lasting rest ; Perhaps upon his mould'ring breast Some spitefu ' muirfowl bigs her nest , To hatch ...
... stane , amang the heather , Marks out his head , Whare Burns has wrote , in rhyming blether , Tam Samson's dead ! There low he lies , in lasting rest ; Perhaps upon his mould'ring breast Some spitefu ' muirfowl bigs her nest , To hatch ...
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Common terms and phrases
aerial band aith amang ance auld baith bard Beneath blate blest bonnie braw BRIG brunstane cauld Charlie Fox countra dear deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flow'rs fortune's frae gaun gien gies grace guid Halloween hame haud hear heart Heav'n honest humble ither John Barleycorn Kilmarnock lasses Mailie maist maun monie mourn muckle muse mutchkin Nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor never night noble o'er out-owre owre owre the sea pleugh poor pow'r pride rhyme roar round rustic Samson's dead sark Scotia's Scotland sing skelpin soul stane sugh sweet ta'en tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro unco weary weel Whare Whistle Whyles winds winna wretch Ye'll ye're ΧΙ
Popular passages
Page 178 - 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 !
Page 186 - See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight, So abject, mean, and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil ; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn, Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn.
Page 333 - And in an instant all was dark : And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi...
Page 203 - 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...
Page 201 - WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Page 327 - Tam had got planted unco right; Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely ; And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony ; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither; They had been fou for weeks thegither. The night drave on wi...
Page 202 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Page 180 - 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.
Page 329 - 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!
Page 327 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious: The souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy: As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure; Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,...