The Poetical Works of Robert Burns: Edited from the Best Printed and Manuscript Authorities, with Glossarial Index, and a Biographical Memoir, 1. sējums

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Macmillan and Company, 1865

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144. lappuse - ... sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust; Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
201. lappuse - Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied that, late or soon, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon ; 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...
132. lappuse - The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high ; Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage 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.
145. lappuse - ... 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 giv'n, Who long with wants and woes has striv'n, By human pride or cunning driv'n To...
78. lappuse - 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.
202. lappuse - 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...
132. lappuse - 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. Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart...
143. lappuse - 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.
83. lappuse - Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain. These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art.
160. lappuse - O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us ! It wad frae monie a blunder free us And foolish notion: What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, And ev'n Devotion I ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH.

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