The poetical works of Robert Burns, ed. by C. Kent1878 |
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Página 69
... tune , Owre Scotland rings , it , I scarce excuse ye . My senses wad be in a creel , Should I but dare a hope to speel Wi ' Allan , or wi ' Gilbertfiel ' , The braes o ' fame ; Or Fergusson , the writer - chiel , A deathless name . ( O ...
... tune , Owre Scotland rings , it , I scarce excuse ye . My senses wad be in a creel , Should I but dare a hope to speel Wi ' Allan , or wi ' Gilbertfiel ' , The braes o ' fame ; Or Fergusson , the writer - chiel , A deathless name . ( O ...
Página 75
... Tune- " Soldier's Joy . " And now though I must beg , with a wooden arm and leg , And many a tattered rag hanging over my bum , I'm as happy with my wallet , my bottle , and my callet , As when I used in scarlet to follow a drum . Lal ...
... Tune- " Soldier's Joy . " And now though I must beg , with a wooden arm and leg , And many a tattered rag hanging over my bum , I'm as happy with my wallet , my bottle , and my callet , As when I used in scarlet to follow a drum . Lal ...
Página 77
... Tune- " O an ' ye were dead , gudeman . " A Highland lad my love was born , The Lawland laws he held in scorn ; But he still was faithfu ' to his clan , My gallant braw John Highlandman . CHORUS . Sing , hey my braw John Highlandman ...
... Tune- " O an ' ye were dead , gudeman . " A Highland lad my love was born , The Lawland laws he held in scorn ; But he still was faithfu ' to his clan , My gallant braw John Highlandman . CHORUS . Sing , hey my braw John Highlandman ...
Página 78
... Tune- " Clout the caudron . " My bonny lass , I work in brass , A tinkler is my station ; I've travelled round all Christian ground , In this my occupation . I've ta'en the gold , I've been enrolled In many a noble squadron ; But vain ...
... Tune- " Clout the caudron . " My bonny lass , I work in brass , A tinkler is my station ; I've travelled round all Christian ground , In this my occupation . I've ta'en the gold , I've been enrolled In many a noble squadron ; But vain ...
Página 79
... Tune- " For a ' that , an ' a ' that . " I am a bard of no regard , Wi ' gentle folks , an ' a ' that ; But Homer - like , the glowran byke , Frae town to town I draw that . CHORUS . For a ' that , an ' a ' that , An ' twice as muckle's ...
... Tune- " For a ' that , an ' a ' that . " I am a bard of no regard , Wi ' gentle folks , an ' a ' that ; But Homer - like , the glowran byke , Frae town to town I draw that . CHORUS . For a ' that , an ' a ' that , An ' twice as muckle's ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
amang auld baith blaw blest blithe bonnie lass bosom braes braw breast Burns Burns's canna cauld charms Clarinda de'il dear dearie Dumfries e'en e'er Edinburgh Ellisland eyes fair Farewell fate flowers frae Gala Water gang Gavin Hamilton gi'e glen grace guid ha'e hame heart Heaven Highland Highland laddie honest honour ilka Jacobite Jamie Jean John Johnnie Kilmarnock kiss laddie lady laird lassie lo'e Lord Mary Mauchline maun mony morning Mossgiel mourn Muse nae mair nane ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure Poet Poet's poor rhyme Robert Robert Burns sang Scotland Scots sing song stanzas sweet Syne Tarbolton tears tell thee There's thou Tune Tune-"The unco verses weary weel Whare Whigs whyles wife Willie young
Pasajes populares
Página 92 - 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. Perhaps...
Página 106 - 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.
Página 92 - 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...
Página 14 - God loves from whole to parts: but human soul Must rise from individual to the whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake! The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace; His country next; and next all human race...
Página 91 - MY loved, my honored, much respected friend, No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end ; My dearest meed a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's...
Página 263 - MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. MY heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer ; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Página 92 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel-pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love ! where love like this is found : O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare ! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare — ' If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare — One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that...
Página 344 - Our toils obscure, and a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that ; For a
Página 181 - Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o...
Página 92 - Is there, in human form, that bears a heart, A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?