The Poems and Songs of Robert Burns1787. To Miss Logan, with Beattie's Poems -- Mr. Willliam Smellie: A Sketch -- Song--Rattlin, Roarin Willie -- Song--Bonie Dundee: A Fragment -- Extempore in the Court of Session -- Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet -- Lines Inscribed to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House -- Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture -- Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh -- Song--The Bonie Moor-hen -- Song--My Lord a-Hunting he is gane -- Epigram at Roslin Inn -- Epigram Addressed to an Artist -- The Bookworms -- On Elphinstone's Translation of Martial's Epigrams -- Song--A Bottle and Friend -- Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns -- Epitaph for William Nicol, High School, Edinburgh -- Epitaph for Mr. William Michie, Schoolmaster -- Boat Song--Hey, Ca' Thro' -- Address to Wm. Tytler, Esq., of Woodhouselee -- Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church -- Burlesque Lament for Wm. Creech's Absence -- Note to Mr. Renton of Lamerton -- Elegy on Stella -- The bard at Inverary -- Epigram to Miss Jean Scott -- On the Death of John M'Leod, Esq. -- Elegy on the Death of Sir James Hunter Blair -- Impromptu on Carron Iron Works -- To Miss Ferrier, enclosing Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair -- Written by Somebody on the Window of an Inn at Stirling -- Reply to the Threat of a Censorious Critic -- The Libeller's Self-reproof -- verses Written with a pencil at the Inn at Kenmore -- Song--The Birks of Aberfeldy --The Humble Petition of Bruar Water -- Lines on the Fall of Fyers -- Epigram on Parting with a kind Host in the Highlands -- Song--Strathallan's Lament -- Verses on Castle Gordon -- Song--Lady Onlie, Honest Luckie -- Song--Theniel Menzies' Bonie Mary -- Song--The Bonie Lass of Albany -- On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Loch Turit -- Song--Blythe was She -- Song--A Rose-bud by my Early Walk -- Epitaph for Mr. W. Cruickshank -- Song--The Banks of the Devon -- Song--Braving Angry Winter's Storms -- Song--My Peggy's Charms -- Song--The Young Highland Rover -- Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787 -- On the Death of Robert Dundas, Esq., of Arniston -- Sylvander to Clarinda. |
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Parole e frasi comuni
aboon amang auld baith Bard birks of Aberfeldy blast blaw blest blythe bonie lass bosom braes braw breast brunstane Burns canna cauld charms claut dear Dearie deil e'en e'er Ellisland Ev'n ev'ry fair Farewell fate fear Fête Champêtre flowers frae glen grace gude hame haud heart Heaven Highland Highland laddie honest ilka Jamie laddie laird lassie lo'es Lord Mauchline maun meikle mony morn mourn muse nae mair ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure poor pow'r pride rhyme roar ROBERT BURNS sang Scotland sing skelpin song soul sugh sweet Syne Tarbolton tear tell thee There's thine thro thyme Tune unco warl weary weel Whare Whigs whistle wild Willie wind winna wretch ye'll ye're
Brani popolari
Pagina 473 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, O!
Pagina 384 - 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.
Pagina 126 - Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! Its silly wa's the win's are strewin'! An' naething, now, to big a new ane, O' foggage green! An' bleak December's winds ensuin', Baith snell an' keen ! Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' weary winter comin' fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, — Till, crash! the cruel coulter passed Out through thy cell. That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Pagina 142 - My lov'd, my honor'd, 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 sequester'd scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah ! Tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween. November chill blaws loud wi...
Pagina 144 - 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 perjured arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, Points to the parents fondling o'er their child ? Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction wild?
Pagina 335 - Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
Pagina 202 - mang the dewy weet ! Wi' speckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet, The purpling east. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth ; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield ; But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane.
Pagina 417 - In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin! Kate soon will be a woefu
Pagina 387 - Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, 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? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his...
Pagina 146 - 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.