Robert Burns: The Poems, Epistles, Songs, Epigrams & Epitaphs, Volume 1

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C. Wilson, 1896
 

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Page xxii - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Page 110 - 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 143 - Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied that, late or soon, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon ; Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk By Alloway's auld haunted kirk. Ah, gentle dames ! it gars me greet To think how mony counsels sweet, How mony lengthen'd sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises ! But to our tale : Ae market night, Tam had got planted unco right, Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi...
Page 278 - To make a happy fire-side clime To weans and wife, That's the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
Page 120 - 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 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 96 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Page 96 - 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 108 - 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 ; Wi' heart-struck, anxious care, inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak ; Weel pleas'd the mother hears, it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi...
Page 91 - See! the smoking bowl before us, Mark our jovial ragged ring! Round and round take up the chorus, And in raptures let us sing.
Page 97 - 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 agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an

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