Poems, chiefly in the Scottish dialect: By Robert Burns. In two volumes. A new edition, considerably enlarged. ... (Google eBook)

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printed for T. Cadell jun. and W. Davies, London; and William Creech, Edinburgh, 1798
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Page 9 - 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?
Page 51 - LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind memento ; But how the subject theme may gang, Let time and chance determine ; Perhaps, it may turn out a sang, Perhaps, turn out a sermon.
Page 203 - Whom his ain son o' life bereft, The grey hairs yet stack to the heft ; Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which ev"n to name wad be unlawfu'. As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious : The piper loud and louder blew ; The dancers quick and quicker flew ; They...
Page 199 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, 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...
Page 202 - Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi' bluid red-rusted; Five scimitars, wi' murder crusted; A garter, which a babe had strangled; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o...
Page 14 - ... how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's...
Page 16 - An honest man's the noblest work of God;' And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!
Page 199 - twad blawn its last; The rattling show'rs rose on the blast; The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd; Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellow'd: That night, a child might understand, The de'il had business on his hand. Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg, A better never lifted leg, Tam skelpit on thro' dub and mire, Despising wind, and rain, and fire; Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet; Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet Whiles glow'ring round wi...
Page 15 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Page 6 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor 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...

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