An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promis'd joy. Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me ! The present only toucheth thee : But, Och ! I backward cast my e'e On prospects drear ! An... Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect - Pagina 204 di Robert Burns - 1797 - 287 pagine Visualizzazione completa -
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