Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Amang appear auld bard better bonie Burns called charms composed dear death died doubt draw drink e'er EPISTLE Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith father fear Fortune frae give grace guid Hamilton hand happy head hear heart holy honest honor hope hour I'll Jean John keep kind lass leave light live look Lord mair Mary Mauchline maun meet mind mony morn muse ne'er never night o'er owre perhaps pleasure poem poet poet's poor present pride rhyme round seen sing song stand strong sweet tell thee There's Thou thought thro Till weary weel wild Ye'll young
Seite 125 - 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...
Seite 147 - 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.
Seite 147 - 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?
Seite 125 - The best laid schemes o mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promised joy. Still thou art blest, compared wi' me ! The present only toucheth thee : But, Och ! I backward cast my e'e On prospects drear ! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an
Seite 150 - Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd thro...
Seite 224 - 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.
Seite 40 - An' tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. But gie me a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O ; An' warly cares, an' warly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O. For you sae douce, ye sneer at this, Ye're nought but senseless asses, O : The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O : Her 'prentice han' she try'd on man, An
Seite 151 - Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie, Clos'd under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cootie, To scaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An
Seite 66 - It's no in makin muckle, mair ; It's no in books, it's no in lear, To make us truly blest : If Happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest : Nae treasures nor pleasures Could make us happy lang ; The heart ay's the part ay That makes us right or wrang.
Seite 65 - Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods, The sweeping vales and foaming floods, Are free alike to all. In days when daisies deck the ground, And blackbirds whistle clear, With honest joy our hearts will bound, To see the coming year: On braes when we please, then, We'll sit an' sowth a tune; Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, And sing't when we hae done.