The Poetical Works, Volumen3

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Little, Brown, 1863 - 1 páginas
 

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Página 82 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him on wi
Página 153 - 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
Página 152 - The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Página 153 - 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 hodden-gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a
Página 29 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi...
Página 303 - IT was a' for our rightfu' King We left fair Scotland's strand; It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, my dear, We e'er saw Irish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a...
Página 304 - The sodger frae the wars returns, The sailor frae the main; But I hae parted frae my love, Never to meet again, My dear — Never to meet again. When day is gane, and night is come, And a...
Página 153 - Their tinsel show, and a' that ; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men, for a' that. Ye see yon birkie, ca'da lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that ; Tho' hundreds worship at his word. He's but a coof. for a' that. For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a
Página 207 - WERT thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'. Or were I in the wildest waste, Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise, If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o' the globe, Wi
Página 206 - Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear ; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear — Jessy ! Altho' thou maun never be mine, Altho...

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