The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volumen38Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 |
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Página 27
... who shall now their praises tell , In strains impassion'd , fond and free , Since he no more the song shall swell To love , and liberty , and thee ! With step - dame eye and frown severe His hapless 27 On the death of Burns, by Mr Roscoe,
... who shall now their praises tell , In strains impassion'd , fond and free , Since he no more the song shall swell To love , and liberty , and thee ! With step - dame eye and frown severe His hapless 27 On the death of Burns, by Mr Roscoe,
Página 38
... tell the wor ' that I glory in the title . I come to congratulate my Country , that the blood of her ancient heroes still runs uncontaminated ; and that from your courage , knowledge , and public spirit , she may expect protection ...
... tell the wor ' that I glory in the title . I come to congratulate my Country , that the blood of her ancient heroes still runs uncontaminated ; and that from your courage , knowledge , and public spirit , she may expect protection ...
Página 45
... tell what new taxation's comin , An ' ferlie at the folk in Lon'on . As bleak - fac'd Hallowmass returns , They get the jovial , ranting kirns , When rural life , o ' ev'ry station , Unite in common recreation ; Love blinks , Wit slaps ...
... tell what new taxation's comin , An ' ferlie at the folk in Lon'on . As bleak - fac'd Hallowmass returns , They get the jovial , ranting kirns , When rural life , o ' ev'ry station , Unite in common recreation ; Love blinks , Wit slaps ...
Página 47
... folk . But will ye tell me , Master Casar , Sure great folk's life's a life o ' pleasure ? Nae cauld nor hunger e'er can steer them , The vera thought o't need na fear them . CÆSAR . L -- d man , were ye but CHIEFLY SCOTTISH . 47.
... folk . But will ye tell me , Master Casar , Sure great folk's life's a life o ' pleasure ? Nae cauld nor hunger e'er can steer them , The vera thought o't need na fear them . CÆSAR . L -- d man , were ye but CHIEFLY SCOTTISH . 47.
Página 53
... tell , Poor plackless devils like mysel ! It sets you ill , Wi ' bitter , dearthfu ' wines to mell , Or foreign gill . May gravels round his blather wrench , An ' gouts torment him inch by inch , Wha twists his gruntle wi ' a glunch O ...
... tell , Poor plackless devils like mysel ! It sets you ill , Wi ' bitter , dearthfu ' wines to mell , Or foreign gill . May gravels round his blather wrench , An ' gouts torment him inch by inch , Wha twists his gruntle wi ' a glunch O ...
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The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volumen38 Ezekiel Sanford Vista completa - 1822 |
The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volumen38 Ezekiel Sanford Vista completa - 1822 |
Términos y frases comunes
amang auld auld lang syne baith bard Beneath blate blaw blest bonnie bonnie lasses bosom braes braw breast BRIG brunstane Burns canna cauld charms dear dearie deil e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fear flowers frae gies guid hame haud hear heart Heav'n honest honour ither John Barleycorn lasses lassie Lord Gregory Mailie maun mony morn mourn muckle muse nae mair Nature's ne'er neebor never night o'er out-owre owre pleasure pleugh poet poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS round rustic Samson's dead Scotia's Scotland sing skelpin SONG soul sugh sweet Syne ta'en tears tell thee There's thou thro toil Tune unco wander weary weel Whare whistling Whyles wild Willie winds wretch XXXVIII ye'll ye're youthful
Pasajes populares
Página 165 - 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.
Página 369 - 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 namely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that? Gi'e fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a
Página 164 - 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.
Página 175 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...
Página 251 - 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.-— Nae man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches, Tam maun ride ; That hour o...
Página 368 - 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
Página 175 - Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine — no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!
Página 253 - The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze, Thro, ilka bore the beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing. Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the Devil!
Página 286 - Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? " That sacred hour can I forget ? Can I forget the hallow'd grove Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, To live one day of parting love...
Página 255 - Tam tint his reason a' thegither, And roars out: 'Weel done, Cutty-sark!' And in an instant all was dark; And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop! she starts before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When 'Catch the thief!' resounds aloud; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.