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Amang ance auld Bard Beneath beſt better bonie charms comes corn daur dead dear Death doubt draw drink Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith fate fear fire firſt flame frae gaed gang gies glorious grace guid hand head hear heart honeſt Honor hope hour humble juſt keep kind lads laſt light live mair maun meet mind monie mourn muckle muſt ne'er never night o'er owre pain pleaſure Poet poor pow'r pride rhyme rigs round ſae ſaw ſay Scotch ſee ſet ſhall ſhe ſhould ſic ſing ſome ſtill ſweet taen tear tell thee There's thou thought thro Till tune twas unco weary weel Whyles worth Ye'll youthful
Seite 135 - ... how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's...
Seite 176 - LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind memento ; But how the subject theme may gang, Let time and chance determine ; Perhaps, it may turn out a sang, Perhaps, turn out a sermon.
Seite 136 - An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" And, certes,* in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp ? A cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind! Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! O Scotia, my dear, my native soil!
Seite 136 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Seite 162 - Mis-spending all thy precious hours Thy glorious, youthful prime! Alternate Follies take the sway; Licentious Passions burn; Which tenfold force gives Nature's law, That Man was made to mourn.
Seite 126 - Belyve,* the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun
Seite 127 - An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet ; Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a
Seite 49 - Now, butt an' ben, the Change-house fills, Wi' yill-caup Commentators : Here's crying out for bakes an' gills, An' there the pint-stowp clatters ; While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang, Wi' logic, an' wi' Scripture, They raise a din, that in the end, Is like to breed a rupture O' wrath that day. Leeze me on Drink ! it gi'es us mair Than either School or College : It kindles Wit, it waukens Lair, It pangs us fou o
Seite 179 - The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, To haud the wretch in order; But where ye feel your honor grip, Let that aye be your border; Its slightest touches, instant pause — Debar a' side pretences; And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences.
Seite 130 - I've paced much this weary mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare 'If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.