The works of Robert Burns; with an account of his life, and a criticism on his writings. To which are prefixed, some observations on the character and condition of the Scottish peasantry. As ed. by J. Currie, Band 3

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Seite 124 - 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 scents the ev'ning gale.
Seite 94 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Seite 127 - 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.
Seite 126 - 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.
Seite 218 - 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...
Seite 217 - Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk By Alloway's auld haunted kirk. Ah, gentle dames ! it gars me greet To think how mony counsels sweet, How mony lengthen'd sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises ! But to our tale : Ae market night, Tam had got planted unco right, Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi...
Seite 113 - 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!
Seite 139 - 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 127 - 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 ! O Scotia!
Seite 125 - 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 !

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