Poems, chiefly in the Scottish dialect1824 |
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Page xi
... Death Doctor Hornbook 33 The Brigs of Ayr The Ordination . The Calf . Address to the Deil . The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie Poor Mailie's Elegy . To James Smith , Merchant , Mauchline A Dream .. The Vision . Address to the Unco ...
... Death Doctor Hornbook 33 The Brigs of Ayr The Ordination . The Calf . Address to the Deil . The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie Poor Mailie's Elegy . To James Smith , Merchant , Mauchline A Dream .. The Vision . Address to the Unco ...
Page xii
... Death of John M'Leod , Esq . 224 Humble Petition of Bruar Water .. 225 On scaring some Water Fowl 228 Written at the Inn at Kenmore , Taymouth . 230 Written at the Fall of Fyers 232 On the Birth of a posthumous Child 233 The Whistle . A ...
... Death of John M'Leod , Esq . 224 Humble Petition of Bruar Water .. 225 On scaring some Water Fowl 228 Written at the Inn at Kenmore , Taymouth . 230 Written at the Fall of Fyers 232 On the Birth of a posthumous Child 233 The Whistle . A ...
Page 13
... death At ev'ry chaup . Nae mercy , then , for airn or steel ; The brawnie , bainie , ploughman chiel , Brings hard owrehip , wi ' sturdy wheel , The strong forehammer , Till block an ' studdie ring an ' reel Wi ' dinsome clamour . When ...
... death At ev'ry chaup . Nae mercy , then , for airn or steel ; The brawnie , bainie , ploughman chiel , Brings hard owrehip , wi ' sturdy wheel , The strong forehammer , Till block an ' studdie ring an ' reel Wi ' dinsome clamour . When ...
Page 22
Robert Burns. Nae cauld , faint - hearted doubtings tease him ; Death comes , wi ' fearless eye he sees him ; Wi ' bluidy hand a welcome gies him ; An ' when he fa's , His latest draught o ' breathin lea'es him In faint huzzas . Sages ...
Robert Burns. Nae cauld , faint - hearted doubtings tease him ; Death comes , wi ' fearless eye he sees him ; Wi ' bluidy hand a welcome gies him ; An ' when he fa's , His latest draught o ' breathin lea'es him In faint huzzas . Sages ...
Page 32
... fou o ' love divine ; There's some are fou o ' brandy ; An ' monie jobs that day begun , May end in Houghmagandie Some ither day . 1 Shakspeare's Hamlet . DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOK . A TRUE STORY . SOME 32 BURNS ' POEMS ,
... fou o ' love divine ; There's some are fou o ' brandy ; An ' monie jobs that day begun , May end in Houghmagandie Some ither day . 1 Shakspeare's Hamlet . DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOK . A TRUE STORY . SOME 32 BURNS ' POEMS ,
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Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect: The Luath Kilmarnock Edition Robert Burns No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
aith amaist amang auld baith bard beneath blate blest bonnie braw Brig bright brunstane cauld Claut Crunt Curchie Cutty-sark dear deil dimin e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate flow'rs frae gang gaun gien gies grace guid hame haud hear heart Heav'n himsel honest honour humble ither John Barleycorn JOHN SHARPE Kennin Kilmarnock lasses maun monie mourn muckle Muse mutchkin Nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor needna never night noble o'er Out-owre owre the sea pleasure plough poet poor Poussie pow'r pride rhyme roar round rustic Samson's dead sark scenes Scotch Scotia's Scotland Scottish sing skelpin Snowkit stane sugh sweet ta'en tear tell thee thegither There's thou thro unco Wastrie weary weel Whare Whistle Whyles wild winds wretch Ye'll ye're
Popular passages
Page 132 - 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 ev'ning gale.
Page 134 - 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 133 - 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 135 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Page 108 - Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin ! Its silly wa's the win's are strewin' ! An' naething, now, to big a new ane, O...
Page 131 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor 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 ; With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak : Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi...
Page 147 - Low i' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! Unskillful 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 given, Who long with wants and woes has striven, By human pride or cunning driven To misery's brink.
Page 209 - 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, O'er a...
Page 166 - I am nae poet, in a sense, But just a rhymer like, by chance, An' hae to learning nae pretence, Yet, what the matter? Whene'er my muse does on me glance, I jingle at her. Your...
Page 130 - The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn cotter frae his labor goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree : Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin', stacher thro' To meet their dad, wi' flichterin' noise an