Poems, Songs, and Letters: Being [his] Complete Works

Copertina anteriore
Macmillan, 1914 - 636 pagine
 

Cosa dicono le persone - Scrivi una recensione

Nessuna recensione trovata nei soliti posti.

Altre edizioni - Visualizza tutto

Parole e frasi comuni

Brani popolari

Pagina 36 - Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, To thole the winter's sleety dribble 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
Pagina 183 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Pagina 208 - SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne ? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne.
Pagina 210 - Their tinsel show, and a' that ; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men, for a' that. Ye see yon birkie, ca'da lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that ; Tho' hundreds worship at his word. He's but a coof. for a' that. For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a
Pagina 51 - 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.
Pagina 73 - Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tarn o...
Pagina 44 - 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 through To meet their ' dad,' wi' flichterin noise an
Pagina 45 - Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye : The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi* joy. But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave ; The mother, wi...
Pagina 209 - THAT AND A' THAT" Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that! The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that! For a
Pagina 208 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O

Informazioni bibliografiche