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affection appear auld beauty believe better bonie Burns's called Carlyle character clear critics dark dear death Edinburgh English existence fair father feeling genius give given green guid hand happy hard heart honest hope hour human interest John kind less light lines literary live look man's Mary means mind mony moral natural never night noble once passed perhaps poems poet poetic poetry poor pride rank religion rest rich Robert Burns says Scotland Scots Scottish seems sing sometimes song soul speak stand sure sweet tell thee thing Thomas thou thought thro true truth turn verses whole wild wind worth writing written wrote
Page 74 - I find this conclusion more impressed upon me, — that the greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something, and tell what it saw in a plain way. Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy, and religion, — all in one.
Page 24 - Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! 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...
Page 81 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
Page 48 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large, and of a dark cast, which glowed (I say literally glowed) when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such 35 another eye in a human head, though I have seen the most 1 Sedate. distinguished men of my time.
Page 18 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The short'ning 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. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant...
Page 24 - An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" And, certes,* in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind.
Page 24 - Who dar'd to, nobly, stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part: (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art, His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!) O never, never Scotia's realm desert; But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard...
Page 21 - 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!
Page 21 - 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 perjur'd arts ! dissembling smooth ! Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?