Robert Burns: As a Poet, and as a ManBaker and Scribner, 1848 - 209 páginas |
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Página i
... jingle , Her witching smile , her pawky een , That gar't my heart - strings tingle . " NEW YORK : BAKER AND SCRIBNER , 36 PARK ROW & 145 NASSAU STREET . 1848 . 17487.29 Harvard College Gift of Library Miss Longfellow , Mrs.
... jingle , Her witching smile , her pawky een , That gar't my heart - strings tingle . " NEW YORK : BAKER AND SCRIBNER , 36 PARK ROW & 145 NASSAU STREET . 1848 . 17487.29 Harvard College Gift of Library Miss Longfellow , Mrs.
Página iii
... heart of man , that is ever striving after something better than the realities of life . This spirit is allied to ... heart superficial . The representations of novels do not touch the deeper , and more solemn sympa- thies of the heart ...
... heart of man , that is ever striving after something better than the realities of life . This spirit is allied to ... heart superficial . The representations of novels do not touch the deeper , and more solemn sympa- thies of the heart ...
Página iv
... heart . And what is the human heart ? On one side is heaven , on the other is hell . Over this bright , and over this gloomy region the poet wields his prerogatives . It is with the heart in its joys , and in its sorrows , in its pride ...
... heart . And what is the human heart ? On one side is heaven , on the other is hell . Over this bright , and over this gloomy region the poet wields his prerogatives . It is with the heart in its joys , and in its sorrows , in its pride ...
Página v
... heart . In youth , when love kindles its first flame upon the altar of the heart , poetry breathes its soft breath upon it , and gives it a heavenly warmth . And it gives a fragrance and a beauty to every flower of joy that blooms in ...
... heart . In youth , when love kindles its first flame upon the altar of the heart , poetry breathes its soft breath upon it , and gives it a heavenly warmth . And it gives a fragrance and a beauty to every flower of joy that blooms in ...
Página 9
... heart of his country , as this same Ayrshire ploughman . Of this extraordinary person , I propose to give some account . I will first speak of him as a poet , and then , as a man . Before , however , I speak of him as a poet , I will ...
... heart of his country , as this same Ayrshire ploughman . Of this extraordinary person , I propose to give some account . I will first speak of him as a poet , and then , as a man . Before , however , I speak of him as a poet , I will ...
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Términos y frases comunes
acquaintance Allan Ramsay ambition ancient associations awakened beauty bliss bosom breathes Burns's character charms conversation criticism divine Duchess of Gordon Dugald Stewart Earl of Glencairn Edinburgh elements Ellisland embodied English expression exquisite fame fancy father feeling felt flowers frae genius give Glencairn glory Greek happy harp heart highest honor Hudibras human humble humor ideal impression inspiration labors letter literary literature living look manners Mary Campbell material imagery Mauchline mind moral muse nature never night noble o'er O'Shanter objects peasant peculiar Pietro Perugino pleasure poem poet poetic poetry rhyme Robert Burns satire says scene Scotland Scots Scots College Scottish Scottish literature seen sentiments songs soul spirit stream sweet sympathy Tam O'Shanter taste tender thing Thomson thou thought thro tion touch truth tune ture verses whole Whyles woman write written youth
Pasajes populares
Página 54 - The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain For promis'd joy! Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me! The present only toucheth thee: But, och! I backward cast my e'e, On prospects drear! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an
Página 80 - O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us ! It wad frae monie a blunder free us And foolish notion : What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us, And ev'n devotion ! EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND.
Página 169 - The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen ; The monarch may forget the crown ' That on his head an hour has been ; The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And a' that thou hast done for me ! " LINES, SENT TO SIR JOHN WHITEFORD, OF WHITEFORD, BART.
Página 79 - tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Página 79 - Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Though they may gang a kennin' wrang, To step aside is human.
Página 164 - We know nothing, or next to nothing, of the substance or structure of our souls, so cannot account for those seeming caprices in them that one should be particularly pleased with this thing, or struck with that, which, on minds of a different cast, makes no extraordinary impression. I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the harebell, the foxglove, the wild-brier rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight.
Página 28 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Página 20 - And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green. To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon. Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Página 70 - And sic a night he taks the road in As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattling...
Página 20 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, 'Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i