The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns: With Explanatory and Glossarial Notes; and a Life of the AuthorD. Appleton & Company, 1859 - 612 pages |
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Page 5
... Nature itself . In reprinting the poetical works of one so distin- guished in British literature , the Publishers consid- ered it their duty to collate the various editions of his works , and to collect together the various poems which ...
... Nature itself . In reprinting the poetical works of one so distin- guished in British literature , the Publishers consid- ered it their duty to collate the various editions of his works , and to collect together the various poems which ...
Page 12
... Nature in her wildest grace .. Ae day , as Death , that grusome carl . Again the silent wheels of time • · A guid new year , I wish thee , Maggie !. A little , upright , pert , tart , tripping wight All devil as I am , a damned wretch ...
... Nature in her wildest grace .. Ae day , as Death , that grusome carl . Again the silent wheels of time • · A guid new year , I wish thee , Maggie !. A little , upright , pert , tart , tripping wight All devil as I am , a damned wretch ...
Page 14
... Nature hangs her mantle green .. Now Robin lies in his last lair ... PAGE 166 105 338 314 340 187 336 216 326 O Death ! hadst thou but spared his life O Death ! thou tyrant fell and bloody ! Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace ...
... Nature hangs her mantle green .. Now Robin lies in his last lair ... PAGE 166 105 338 314 340 187 336 216 326 O Death ! hadst thou but spared his life O Death ! thou tyrant fell and bloody ! Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace ...
Page 15
... Nature cried to Death Sweet floweret , pledge o ' meikle love Sweet naïveté of feature . Talk not to me of savages 319 612 152 596 331 Tam Samson's weel - worn clay here lies That there is falsehood in his looks ... The Devil got notice ...
... Nature cried to Death Sweet floweret , pledge o ' meikle love Sweet naïveté of feature . Talk not to me of savages 319 612 152 596 331 Tam Samson's weel - worn clay here lies That there is falsehood in his looks ... The Devil got notice ...
Page 23
... Nature sees .. A Highland lad my love was born Altho ' my back be at the wa ' • 403 469 395 405 522 567 Although my bed were in yon muir . 505 Altho ' thou maun never be mine ... 480 Amang the trees where humming bees 502 Ance mair I ...
... Nature sees .. A Highland lad my love was born Altho ' my back be at the wa ' • 403 469 395 405 522 567 Although my bed were in yon muir . 505 Altho ' thou maun never be mine ... 480 Amang the trees where humming bees 502 Ance mair I ...
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Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
aith amang auld baith Bard beneath better blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses braw breast BRIG Burns charms chiel Cutty-sark dear Deil Dumfries e'en e'er Edinburgh Ellisland fame fate fear frae grace guid hame hand heart Heaven honest honor humble ither labor lasses Lord Mailie Mauchline maun mind monie mourn muckle Muse nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor never night noble o'er onie out-owre owre pleasure plough poems poet poor pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS rustic scene Scotia's Scotland Scottish Shanter sing skelpin song soul strains sugh sweet taen Tam O'Shanter tears tell thee thegither There's thou thought thro toil unco verse vex'd wander weary weel Whyles wild William Burnes Willie's awa wind winna wretch Ye'll
Popular passages
Page 108 - 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 106 - 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 154 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward 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 105 - 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...
Page 111 - Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain. These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art.
Page 97 - Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow. Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin! In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin! Kate soon will be a woefu
Page 93 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious ! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed ; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever ; Or like the Borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place ; Or like the Rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm.
Page 93 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter ; And ay the ale was growing better : The landlady and Tam grew gracious, 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.
Page 94 - 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 108 - 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 !* he says, with solemn air.