The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and a Criticism on His Writings; to which are Prefixed, Some Observations on the Character and Condition of the Scottish Peasantry, Том 2F. Lucas, jun. and J. Cushing, 1815 |
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Стр. 15
... Madam , No. IV . To Mrs. DUNLOP , of DUNLOP . Ayrshire , 1786 . I am truly sorry I was not at home yesterday , when I was so much honoured with your order for my copies , and incomparably more by the hand- some compliments you are ...
... Madam , No. IV . To Mrs. DUNLOP , of DUNLOP . Ayrshire , 1786 . I am truly sorry I was not at home yesterday , when I was so much honoured with your order for my copies , and incomparably more by the hand- some compliments you are ...
Стр. 16
... madam , you could not have touched my darling heart - chord more sweetly than by noticing my attempts to ce lebrate your illustrious ancestor , the Saviour of his Country . " Great patriot hero ! ill - requited chief ! " The first book ...
... madam , you could not have touched my darling heart - chord more sweetly than by noticing my attempts to ce lebrate your illustrious ancestor , the Saviour of his Country . " Great patriot hero ! ill - requited chief ! " The first book ...
Стр. 17
... madam , what task the world would assign me in this letter . The obscure bard , when any of the great condescend to take notice of him , should heap the altar with the incense of flattery . Their high ancestry , their own great and ...
... madam , what task the world would assign me in this letter . The obscure bard , when any of the great condescend to take notice of him , should heap the altar with the incense of flattery . Their high ancestry , their own great and ...
Стр. 23
... my inmost soul I do it . Selfish ingratitude I hope I am incapable of ; and mercenary servility , I trust I shall ever have so much honest pride as to detest . Madam , No. XI . To Mrs. DUNLOP . Edinburgh CORRESPONDENCE , 23.
... my inmost soul I do it . Selfish ingratitude I hope I am incapable of ; and mercenary servility , I trust I shall ever have so much honest pride as to detest . Madam , No. XI . To Mrs. DUNLOP . Edinburgh CORRESPONDENCE , 23.
Стр. 24
... Madam , No. XI . To Mrs. DUNLOP . Edinburgh , 15th January , 1787 . Yours of the 9th current , which I am this moment honoured with , is a deep reproach to me for ungrateful neglect . I will tell you the real truth , for I am miserably ...
... Madam , No. XI . To Mrs. DUNLOP . Edinburgh , 15th January , 1787 . Yours of the 9th current , which I am this moment honoured with , is a deep reproach to me for ungrateful neglect . I will tell you the real truth , for I am miserably ...
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
acquaintance Ayrshire ballad bard bert Graham character charming Clarinda Closeburn compliments composition copy creature CUNNINGHAM dare dear madam dear sir Dryburgh Abbey Dumbarton's Drums Dumfries DUNLOP Edinburgh Ellisland epistle esteem excise fancy fate favour favourite feel fellow Fintry flattering follies friendship genius gentleman give grey plovers happy hear heart heaven honest honoured friend hope house of Stewart humble humour idea inclosed kind lady late letter lord Mauchline meet ment merit mind miserable muse Mylne's native never night Nithsdale obliging opinion owing perhaps perusal pity pleasure poem poet poetic poetry poor present pride racter reason REVEREND rhyme ROBERT BURNS Scottish sent sentiment Shanter shew sincerely sing song soon soul spirit stanzas sweet SYLVANDER taste thee thing thou thought tion verses virtue wish worth wretch write
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Стр. 141 - Man, this is one of the most extraordinary, that he shall go on from day to day, from week to week, from month to month.
Стр. 212 - Farewell thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the broad setting sun ! Farewell loves and friendships, ye dear, tender ties, Our race of existence is run ! Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go, frighten the coward and slave ; Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant ! but know, No terrors hast thou to the brave! Thou strik'st the poor...
Стр. 234 - The fates and characters of the rhyming tribe often employ my thoughts when I am disposed to be melancholy. There is not, among all the martyrologies that ever were penned, so rueful a narrative as the lives of the poets. In the comparative view of wretches, the criterion is not what they are doomed to suffer, but how they are formed to bear. Take a being of our kind, give him a stronger imagination and a more delicate sensibility, which between them will ever engender a more ungovernable...
Стр. 106 - Leith, Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry, The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The glittering spears are ranked ready; The shouts o' war are heard afar, The battle closes thick and bloody; But it's not the roar o...
Стр. 9 - ... and hear the stormy wind howling among the trees, and raving over the plain. It is my best season for devotion : my mind is wrapt up in a kind of enthusiasm to Him, who, in the pompous language of the Hebrew bard, ' walks on the wings of the wind.
Стр. 110 - I never hear the loud, solitary whistle of the curlew in a summer noon, or the wild mixing cadence of a troop of grey plovers in an autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the enthusiasm of devotion or poetry.
Стр. 109 - Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life ; and passing from one thought to another,
Стр. 110 - Are we a piece of machinery, which, like the jEolian harp, passive, takes the impression of the passing accident; or do these workings argue something within us above the trodden clod ? I own myself partial to such proofs of those awful and important realities : a God that made all things, man's immaterial and immortal nature, and a world of weal or woe beyond death and the grave.
Стр. 109 - ... routine of life and thought, which is so apt to reduce our existence to a kind of instinct, or even sometimes, and with some minds, to a state very little superior to mere machinery. This day...
Стр. 152 - Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?