The Poems and Songs of Robert Burns
P. F. Collier & Son, 1909 - 609 pagine
1787. To Miss Logan, with Beattie's Poems -- Mr. Willliam Smellie: A Sketch -- Song--Rattlin, Roarin Willie -- Song--Bonie Dundee: A Fragment -- Extempore in the Court of Session -- Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet -- Lines Inscribed to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House -- Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture -- Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh -- Song--The Bonie Moor-hen -- Song--My Lord a-Hunting he is gane -- Epigram at Roslin Inn -- Epigram Addressed to an Artist -- The Bookworms -- On Elphinstone's Translation of Martial's Epigrams -- Song--A Bottle and Friend -- Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns -- Epitaph for William Nicol, High School, Edinburgh -- Epitaph for Mr. William Michie, Schoolmaster -- Boat Song--Hey, Ca' Thro' -- Address to Wm. Tytler, Esq., of Woodhouselee -- Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church -- Burlesque Lament for Wm. Creech's Absence -- Note to Mr. Renton of Lamerton -- Elegy on Stella -- The bard at Inverary -- Epigram to Miss Jean Scott -- On the Death of John M'Leod, Esq. -- Elegy on the Death of Sir James Hunter Blair -- Impromptu on Carron Iron Works -- To Miss Ferrier, enclosing Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair -- Written by Somebody on the Window of an Inn at Stirling -- Reply to the Threat of a Censorious Critic -- The Libeller's Self-reproof -- verses Written with a pencil at the Inn at Kenmore -- Song--The Birks of Aberfeldy --The Humble Petition of Bruar Water -- Lines on the Fall of Fyers -- Epigram on Parting with a kind Host in the Highlands -- Song--Strathallan's Lament -- Verses on Castle Gordon -- Song--Lady Onlie, Honest Luckie -- Song--Theniel Menzies' Bonie Mary -- Song--The Bonie Lass of Albany -- On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Loch Turit -- Song--Blythe was She -- Song--A Rose-bud by my Early Walk -- Epitaph for Mr. W. Cruickshank -- Song--The Banks of the Devon -- Song--Braving Angry Winter's Storms -- Song--My Peggy's Charms -- Song--The Young Highland Rover -- Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787 -- On the Death of Robert Dundas, Esq., of Arniston -- Sylvander to Clarinda.
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Amang arms auld banks bard bear Beneath better blest bonie breast charms comes dead dear death e'er Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith fate fear fire Fortune frae grace green guid hand happy head hear heart hills honest honour hope hour I'll John kind King lass leave light live Lord mair mark maun meet mind mony morn mourn muse ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure poet poor pride rest rhyme rise round sang seen sing SONG soul spring sweet tear tell thee There's thou thought thro Till Tune unco weary weel wild Willie wind winter ye'll young youth
Pagina 135 - An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" And, certes,* in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp ? A cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind! Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! O Scotia, my dear, my native soil!
Pagina 398 - And thro' the whins, and by the cairn, Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn ; And near the thorn, aboon the well, Whare Mungo's mither hang'd hersel. Before him Doon pours all his floods; The doubling storm roars thro...
Pagina 127 - An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet ; Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a
Pagina 531 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than, a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Pagina 50 - ... wight, So abject, mean and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil ; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn, Unmindful though a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn. ' If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave, By Nature's law design'd, Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind ? If not, why am I subject to His cruelty or scorn ? Or why has man the will and pow'r To make his fellow mourn...
Pagina 178 - Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; 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.
Pagina 186 - mang the dewy weet, Wi' spreckl'd breast! When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield: But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane.
Pagina 134 - 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...
Pagina 110 - An' weary winter comin' fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell — Till crash ! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell. That wee bit heap o...
Pagina 185 - WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.