The Dialect of Robert Burns as Spoken in Central Ayrshire

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Oxford University Press, 1923 - 195 Seiten
 

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Seite 112 - Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye : The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi* joy. But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave ; The mother, wi...
Seite 136 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Seite 131 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha s>ae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee ! Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Seite 123 - 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...
Seite 111 - Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun'; Some ca...
Seite 135 - Our toils obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The Man's the gowd for a" that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a' that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A Man's a Man for a
Seite 144 - I'll wage thee! Who shall say that Fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy; Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever.
Seite 112 - The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; The sire turns o'er wi...
Seite 111 - 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 wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an
Seite 135 - Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that ? The coward slave — we pass him by, We dare be poor for a

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