The works of Robert Fergusson, to which is prefixed, a sketch of the author's life [by A. Peterkin]. |
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appear Auld baith beauty bonny breath bring busy cause cheer circumstances dark dead death delight dowie face fair Fancy fear feelings Fergusson fields fouk frae friends genius give green groves grow gude hand happy hath head hear heard heart hills hopes human ilka Italy kind leave light live look mair maun mind mony morn mourn Muse Nature ne'er never night numbers o'er owre plain play poor reign Robert rose round scene seems seen shade shore sigh sing smiles song sons soon sounds spring stand strain streams swain sweet tear tell thee thou thought thro Till tongue turn Twas virtue voice waters weel Whan Whare wing wish youth
Popular passages
Page 116 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
Page 250 - Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 288 - And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear ; The mind's aye cradled when the grave is near. Yet thrift, industrious, bides her latest days, Tho' age her sair-dow'd front wi' runcles wave ; Yet frae the russet lap the spindle plays ; Her e'enin stent reels she as weel's the lave. On some feast-day the wee things, buskit braw, Shall heeze her heart up wi...
Page 247 - While he draws breath, Till his four quarters are bedeckit Wi' gude Braid Claith. On Sabbath-days the barber spark, Whan he has done wi...
Page 66 - No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, ' No storied urn nor animated bust ;' This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.
Page 198 - When you censure the age, Be cautious and sage, Lest the courtiers offended, should be ; If you mention vice or bribe, 'Tis so pat to all the tribe, Each cries — That was levelld at me.
Page 313 - I'd been there, How I wad trimm'd the bill o' fare ! For ne'er sic surly wight as he Had met wi' sic respect frae me. Mind ye what Sam,' the lying loun ! Has in his Dictionar laid down ? That aits in England are a feast To cow an' horse, an' sican beast, While in Scots ground this growth was common To gust the gab o
Page 132 - O great god Pan, to thee Thus do we sing ! Thou that keep'st us chaste and free As the young spring ; Ever be thy honour spoke, From that place the Morn is broke To that place Day doth unyoke...
Page 243 - HAPPY the man who, void of cares and strife, In silken or in leathern purse retains A Splendid Shilling.
Page 288 - O mock na this, my friends ! but rather mourn, Ye in life's brawest spring wi' reason clear ; Wi' eild our idle fancies a' return, And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear ; The mind's ay cradled whan the grave is near.