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auld banks bard beauty bonnie Burns called charms composed dear death Edinburgh face fair fear feel frae give grace guid hand happy head hear heart Highland hills honest honour hope hour I'll John kind lady land lass leave letter light lines live look Lord mair meet mind mony morning muse Museum nature ne'er never night o'er owre pleasure poem poet poet's poor pride Robert round says Scotland sing song soon soul strain sweet tear tell thee There's thou thought thro Till took true Tune turn verses weary weel wife wild Willie wind wish written ye'll young
Stran 237 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Stran 118 - 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 Bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Stran 116 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The shortening winter-day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose ; The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And, weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. Hi. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th'...
Stran 278 - Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd, and said amang them a', 'Ye are na Mary Morison.
Stran 237 - 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.
Stran 116 - 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.
Stran 172 - That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in ; And sic a night he taks the road in As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last ; The rattling...
Stran 172 - 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...
Stran 117 - And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd thro...