Poems, chiefly in the Scottish dialect1824 |
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Page 10
... races , Their galloping thro ' public places , There's sic parade , sic pomp , an ' art , The joy can scarcely reach the heart . The men cast out in party matches , Then sowther a ' in deep debauches ; Ae night they're mad wi ' drink an ...
... races , Their galloping thro ' public places , There's sic parade , sic pomp , an ' art , The joy can scarcely reach the heart . The men cast out in party matches , Then sowther a ' in deep debauches ; Ae night they're mad wi ' drink an ...
Page 42
... race , The vera wrinkles Gothic in his face : He seem'd as he wi ' Time had warstl'd lang , Yet teughly doure , he baide an unco bang . New Brig was buskit in a braw new coat , That he , in Lon'on , frae ane Adams , got ; In's hand five ...
... race , The vera wrinkles Gothic in his face : He seem'd as he wi ' Time had warstl'd lang , Yet teughly doure , he baide an unco bang . New Brig was buskit in a braw new coat , That he , in Lon'on , frae ane Adams , got ; In's hand five ...
Page 44
... race , Or frosty maids forsworn the dear embrace , Or Cuifs of later times , wha held the notion That sullen gloom was sterling true devotion ; Fancies that our guid Brugh denies protection ! And soon may they expire , unblest wi ...
... race , Or frosty maids forsworn the dear embrace , Or Cuifs of later times , wha held the notion That sullen gloom was sterling true devotion ; Fancies that our guid Brugh denies protection ! And soon may they expire , unblest wi ...
Page 45
... race ! Nae langer Rev'rend Men , their country's glory , In plain braid Scots hold forth a plain braid story ! Nae langer thrifty Citizens , an ' douce , Meet owre a pint , or in the Council - house ; But staumrel , corky - headed ...
... race ! Nae langer Rev'rend Men , their country's glory , In plain braid Scots hold forth a plain braid story ! Nae langer thrifty Citizens , an ' douce , Meet owre a pint , or in the Council - house ; But staumrel , corky - headed ...
Page 66
... race , And seize the prey : Then cannie , in some cozie place , They close the day . And others , like your humble servan ' , Poor wights ! nae rules nor roads observin ; To right or left , eternal swervin , They zig - zag on ; " Till ...
... race , And seize the prey : Then cannie , in some cozie place , They close the day . And others , like your humble servan ' , Poor wights ! nae rules nor roads observin ; To right or left , eternal swervin , They zig - zag on ; " Till ...
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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