Burns Chronicle and Club Directory, Томи 6 – 9

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Burns Federation, 1897
 

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Сторінка 27 - 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...
Сторінка 63 - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause — and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave.
Сторінка 72 - Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Сторінка 72 - But, och ! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling! To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her; And gather gear by ev'ry wile That's justified by honour; Not for to hide it in a hedge, Nor for a train attendant ; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent.
Сторінка 96 - Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi' bluid red-rusted; Five scimitars, wi' murder crusted; A garter, which a babe had strangled; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o...
Сторінка 51 - All the faculties of Burns's mind were, as far as I could judge, equally vigorous ; and his predilection for poetry was rather the result of his own enthusiastic and impassioned temper, than of a genius exclusively adapted to that species of composition.
Сторінка 52 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Christopher's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Сторінка 107 - It's hardly in a body's pow'r, To keep, at times, frae being sour, To see how things are shar'd ; How best o...
Сторінка 96 - Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.— Coffins stood round, like open presses; That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish cantrip slight Each in its cauld hand held a light— By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murderer's banes in gibbet aims; Twa span-lang, wee unchristen'd bairns; A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi...
Сторінка 72 - Tho' poortith hourly stare him ; A man may tak a neebor's part, Yet hae nae cash to spare him. Aye free, aff han' your story tell, When wi" a bosom crony ; But still keep something to yoursel Ye scarcely tell to ony.

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