The Poetry of Robert Burns, المجلد 3

الغلاف الأمامي
T. C. and E. C. Jack, 1897
 

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الصفحة 124 - Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair ! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu...
الصفحة 286 - Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd and said amang them a'; — "Ye are na Mary Morison!
الصفحة 56 - And mony a hill between ; But, day and night, my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu...
الصفحة 252 - 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, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me!
الصفحة 53 - Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, And fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o...
الصفحة 287 - O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace Wha for thy sake wad gladly dee ? Or canst thou break that heart of his, Whase only faut is loving thee ? If love for love thou wilt na gie, At least be pity to me shown ; A thought ungentle canna be The thought o
الصفحة 134 - My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton...
الصفحة 106 - Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest ! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest ! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure ! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever ! Ae fareweel, alas ! for ever ! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
الصفحة 256 - 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' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu...
الصفحة 135 - There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.

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