The prose works of Robert BurnsJ. Marshall, 1816 - 705 стор. |
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Сторінка 4
... perhaps the next time I have the pleasure of seeing you , you may bid me take my own lesson home , and tell me that the passion I have professed for you is perhaps one of those transient flashes I have been describing ; but I hope , my ...
... perhaps the next time I have the pleasure of seeing you , you may bid me take my own lesson home , and tell me that the passion I have professed for you is perhaps one of those transient flashes I have been describing ; but I hope , my ...
Сторінка 7
... perhaps but very imperfectly ) by the rules of honour and virtue , if a heart devoted to love and esteem you , and an earnest endeavour to promote your happiness ; if these are quali ties you would wish in a friend , in a ( 7 ) Extracts ...
... perhaps but very imperfectly ) by the rules of honour and virtue , if a heart devoted to love and esteem you , and an earnest endeavour to promote your happiness ; if these are quali ties you would wish in a friend , in a ( 7 ) Extracts ...
Сторінка 9
... perhaps soon leave this place , I wish to see you or hear from you soon ; and if an expression should perhaps escape me rather too warm for friendship , I hope you will pardon it in , my dear Miss don me the dear expression for once ...
... perhaps soon leave this place , I wish to see you or hear from you soon ; and if an expression should perhaps escape me rather too warm for friendship , I hope you will pardon it in , my dear Miss don me the dear expression for once ...
Сторінка 11
... perhaps very soon , I shall bid an eternal adieu to all the pains , and uneasinesses , and disquietudes of this weary life ; for I assure you , I am heartily tired of it , and if I do not very much deceive myself , I could contentedly ...
... perhaps very soon , I shall bid an eternal adieu to all the pains , and uneasinesses , and disquietudes of this weary life ; for I assure you , I am heartily tired of it , and if I do not very much deceive myself , I could contentedly ...
Сторінка 18
... perhaps where we've involved others ; The young , the innocent , who fondly loved us , Nay more , that very love their cause of ruin ! O burning hell ! in all thy store of torments There's not a keener lash ! Lives there a man so firm ...
... perhaps where we've involved others ; The young , the innocent , who fondly loved us , Nay more , that very love their cause of ruin ! O burning hell ! in all thy store of torments There's not a keener lash ! Lives there a man so firm ...
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The Prose Works of Robert Burns: With the Notes of Currie and Cromek and ... Robert Burns Перегляд фрагмента - 1975 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
acquaintance admire Ayrshire ballad bard beautiful bosom BURNS character charming Coila compliments copy Cumnock CUNNINGHAM dare dear Madam DEAR SIR Duke of Athole Dumfries DUNLOP Earl of Glencairn Edinburgh elegant Ellisland English Eolian esteem excise fancy farm favour favourite feel FINTRY flatter follies fortune friendship genius gentleman give gratitude happy heart honest honoured friend hope House of Stewart human humble humour idea inclosed Jedburgh kind lady late letter look Lord Mauchline meet merit mind miserable muse never night Nithsdale noble obliged opinion perhaps pleased pleasure Poems Poet poetic poetry poor present pride racter reason rhyme ROBERT BURNS Robert Fergusson Scotland Scots Scottish sentiment shew sincerely song soon soul spirit stanzas tell thee thing THOMSON thou thought tion tune verses wish worth write
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 20 - ... mortal, I have various sources of pleasure and enjoyment, which are, in a manner, peculiar to myself, or some here and there such other outof-the-way person. Such is the peculiar pleasure I take in the season of WINTER, more than the rest of the year. This, I believe, may be partly owing to my misfortunes giving my mind a melancholy cast : but there is something even in the ' Mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, Abrupt, and deep stretch'd o'er the buried earth," which raises the mind to a serious...
Сторінка 159 - I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the hare-bell, the fox-glove, the wild-brier rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight.
Сторінка 496 - Her pure and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one might almost say her body thought.
Сторінка 100 - The gloomy night is gathering fast — when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition.
Сторінка 84 - This cultivated the latent seeds of poetry ; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look-out in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more sceptical than I am in such matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle terrorS.
Сторінка 100 - This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde...
Сторінка 87 - In short, she, altogether unwittingly to herself, initiated me in that delicious passion, which, in spite of acid disappointment, gin-horse prudence, and book-worm philosophy, I hold to be the first of human joys, our dearest blessing here below...
Сторінка 375 - Scotland, that it was Robert Bruce's march at the battle of Bannockburn. This thought, in my solitary wanderings, warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and independence, which I threw into a kind of Scottish ode, fitted to the air, that one might suppose to be the gallant Royal Scot's address to his heroic followers on that eventful morning.
Сторінка 605 - I saw in the visions of my head upon my bed, and behold, a watcher and an holy one came down from heaven. He cried aloud, and said thus, Hew down the tree, and cut off his branches ; shake off his leaves, and scatter his fruit; let the beasts get away from under it, and the fowls from his branches.
Сторінка 434 - The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn ; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o...