Robert Burns: A MemoirRoutledge, Warnes, and Routledge, 1859 - 100 pages |
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Page 27
... Mary . Gradually the circle widened , the music stopped , conversation in nooks and corners came to a close , and all gathered round the simple countryman ; first they were interested with his description , then they entered into the ...
... Mary . Gradually the circle widened , the music stopped , conversation in nooks and corners came to a close , and all gathered round the simple countryman ; first they were interested with his description , then they entered into the ...
Page 28
... Mary in Heaven " : - Thou ling'ring star , with less'ning ray , That lov'st to greet the early morn , Again thou usherest in the day My Mary from my soul was torn . O Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ...
... Mary in Heaven " : - Thou ling'ring star , with less'ning ray , That lov'st to greet the early morn , Again thou usherest in the day My Mary from my soul was torn . O Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ...
Page 29
... Mary , dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? We are now getting to perceive that the Muse will admit no vile companions in the heart ...
... Mary , dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? We are now getting to perceive that the Muse will admit no vile companions in the heart ...
Page 51
... Mary Hann ; but we , who are not gifted with integuments of purple velvet , come to a very different decision . We tell our Mary Hanns that there is something so purifying in warm and real affection , that there is nothing low in the ...
... Mary Hann ; but we , who are not gifted with integuments of purple velvet , come to a very different decision . We tell our Mary Hanns that there is something so purifying in warm and real affection , that there is nothing low in the ...
Page 90
... Mary , at thy window be , It is the wish'd , the trysted hour ! Those smiles and glances let me see That make the miser's treasure poor : How blithely wad I bide the stoure , A weary slave frae sun to sun ; Could I the rich reward ...
... Mary , at thy window be , It is the wish'd , the trysted hour ! Those smiles and glances let me see That make the miser's treasure poor : How blithely wad I bide the stoure , A weary slave frae sun to sun ; Could I the rich reward ...
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Common terms and phrases
Ae fond kiss Allan Cunningham amang auld awa wi baith ballads bard beautiful blaw bonnie blue Canst thou leave charm Chloris cottage Cutty-sark danc'd awa dearest deil deil's awa Duncan e'enin sun Ellisland English Exciseman farm FARRINGDON STREET father fcap feelings frae glowr'd hame heart Heaven honour hope ilka J. G. WOOD JAMES WHITE Jean Jessie Lewars Katy labours ladies language lassie lo'e dear love thee lover Maggie MARTIN DOYLE Mary maun ment mony Muse Nannie ne'er neebors ness Netherplace never o'er owre perhaps Phrenology pleasure plough poems poet poetic poor Riddel ROBERT BLAKEY Robert Burns rustic Scotland sentiments Shakspeare Shanter sing song swearin sweet tears tender thought thro tion unco verse W. H. Prescott warlock Washington Irving weel wife witches wooing o't words wretched write yon town young
Popular passages
Page 65 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 52 - An' getting fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles, That lie between us and our hame, Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o...
Page 95 - The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace, The big ha'bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!
Page 96 - 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.
Page 97 - While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide, Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart!
Page 93 - 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...
Page 93 - At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an
Page 94 - O happy love, — where love like this is found! — O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare! I've paced much this weary mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare — " If heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk- white thorn that scents the evening gale.
Page 93 - 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...
Page 92 - No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end: My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aikin in a cottage would have been; Ah ! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween! November chill blaws loud wi...