Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, 第 1 卷Adam Neill and Company, 1800 - 287 頁 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 13 筆
第 x 頁
... Morning's Saluta- tion to his Auld Mare , Maggie A Winter Night 195 202 206 Epifle to Davie , A Brother Poet 213 The Lament 224 Defpondency . An Ode 230 Winter . A Dirge 235 VOL . II . Page THE Cottar's Saturday Night I Man was made to ...
... Morning's Saluta- tion to his Auld Mare , Maggie A Winter Night 195 202 206 Epifle to Davie , A Brother Poet 213 The Lament 224 Defpondency . An Ode 230 Winter . A Dirge 235 VOL . II . Page THE Cottar's Saturday Night I Man was made to ...
第 5 頁
... morn to e'en it's nought but toiling , At baking , roafting , frying , boiling ; An ' tho ' the gentry firft are ftechin , Yet e'en the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' fauce , ragouts , an ' ficklike trashtrie , That's little fhort o ...
... morn to e'en it's nought but toiling , At baking , roafting , frying , boiling ; An ' tho ' the gentry firft are ftechin , Yet e'en the ha ' folk fill their pechan Wi ' fauce , ragouts , an ' ficklike trashtrie , That's little fhort o ...
第 17 頁
... morn , Perfume the plain , Leeze me on thee , John Barleycorn , Thou king o ' grain ! On thee aft Scotland chows her cood , In fouple fcones , the wale o ' food ! Or tumblin in the boiling flood Wi ' kail an ' beef ; But when thou pours ...
... morn , Perfume the plain , Leeze me on thee , John Barleycorn , Thou king o ' grain ! On thee aft Scotland chows her cood , In fouple fcones , the wale o ' food ! Or tumblin in the boiling flood Wi ' kail an ' beef ; But when thou pours ...
第 19 頁
... morning In cog or bicker , An ' just a wee drap sp'ritual burn in , An ' gufty fucker ! When Vulcan gies his bellows breath , An ' ploughmen gather wi ' their graith , O rare to fee thee fizz an ' freath I ' th ' lugget caup ! Then ...
... morning In cog or bicker , An ' just a wee drap sp'ritual burn in , An ' gufty fucker ! When Vulcan gies his bellows breath , An ' ploughmen gather wi ' their graith , O rare to fee thee fizz an ' freath I ' th ' lugget caup ! Then ...
第 36 頁
... Religion . HYPOCRISY A - LA - MODE . I. UPON a fimmer Sunday morn , When Nature's face is fair , I Holy Fair is a common phrafe in the Weft of Scot- land for a facramental occafion . I walked forth to view the corn , An ' ( 36 )
... Religion . HYPOCRISY A - LA - MODE . I. UPON a fimmer Sunday morn , When Nature's face is fair , I Holy Fair is a common phrafe in the Weft of Scot- land for a facramental occafion . I walked forth to view the corn , An ' ( 36 )
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aith Amang ance Auld Brig baith Bard blate bleft bonie braw breaſt BRIG brunstane canna cloſe countra Cuifs curfed dear Deil douce e'en e'er Ev'n ev'ry faft fair fhall fide fight filly fimple fing firft focial fome fome day foul frae ftan ftane ftill fure gang gaun gies glaſs guid Halloween hame heart Heav'n himfel honeft Hornbook houſe ither Juft juſt laffes laft Laigh Kirk Laird lefs leuk loft Mailie Mailie's dead maun monie muckle Mufe muſt mutchkin Nae mair ne'er night o'er out-owre owre pleaſure poor pow'r Profe raiſe rhyme rifing ruftic Samfon's dead Scotch Scotland ſee ſhe ſpeed Tam Samfon's dead tell thee thegither There's thou thrang thro unco warft weary weel Weft Whare Whyles ye'll ye're
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第 47 頁 - Leeze me on Drink ! it gi'es us mair Than either School or College : It kindles Wit, it waukens Lair, It pangs us fou o
第 217 頁 - It's no in making 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. Think ye, that sic as you and I, Wha drudge and drive thro...
第 34 頁 - To stan" or rin, Till skelp — a shot — they're aff, a' throw'ther, To save their skin. But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, Clap in his cheek a Highland gill, Say, such is royal George's will, An' there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow.
第 159 頁 - Gies now and then a wallop, What ragings must his veins convulse That still eternal gallop: Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, Right on ye scud your sea-way; But in the teeth o' baith to sail, It maks an unco leeway.
第 191 頁 - Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As thro' the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scar it strays; Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle ; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night.
第 161 頁 - 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.
第 106 頁 - An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will send him linkin, To your black pit ; But, faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkin, An
第 100 頁 - 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' hear us squeel! Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame; Far kend an' noted is thy name; An' tho' yon lowin heugh's thy hame, Thou travels far; An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, Nor blate nor scaur. Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion For prey, a...
第 231 頁 - Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here shall close ne'er But with the closing tomb!
第 159 頁 - And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Your better art o' hidin'. Think, when your Castigated pulse Gies now and then a wallop ! What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop ! Wi