The poetical works of Robert Burns, with a prefatory notice by J. Skipsey, Volume 1

Front Cover
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 44 - 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 46 - ... 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...
Page 48 - Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a...
Page 209 - Thy snawie bosom sunward 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 floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betrayed, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid Low i
Page 40 - 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 46 - And sic a night he taks the road in As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattling...
Page 92 - Wi' yill-caup Commentators: Here's crying out for bakes an' gills, An' there the pint-stowp clatters; While thick an' thrang. an' loud an' lang, Wi' logic, an' wi' Scripture, They raise a din, that in the end Is like to breed a rupture O
Page 40 - 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 181 - An' cranreuch cauld ! But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain : The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an
Page 38 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The short'ning winter-day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour 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...

Bibliographic information