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Amang auld Bard Beneath better blow bonie brother comes corn dead dear Death draw e'er Ev'n ev'ry face fair faith fate father fear fire fome frae gang gies give grace guid hand head hear heart hill honeft hope hour ither juſt keep kind leave light live look mair mark maun meet mind monie mourn ne'er never night o'er owre plough poor pride race rhyme round ſay Scotland ſee ſet ſhe ſome ſtill ſweet tear tell thee There's thing thoſe Thou thought thro Till took true unco weary weel Whare Whyles wife wild wind wretches Ye'll young
Page 147 - Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel are ye wordy o' a grace As lang's my arm. The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o' need, While thro' your pores the dews distil Like amber bead.
Page 54 - Was warst ava ? But a' your doings to rehearse, Your wily snares an' fechtin fierce, Sin' that day Michael did you pierce, Down to this time, Wad ding a' Lallan tongue, or Erse, In prose or rhyme. An...
Page 110 - ... how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's...
Page 83 - 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.
Page vii - Here pause — and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor Inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame, But thoughtless follies laid him low, And...
Page 82 - Ye see your state wi' theirs compar'd, And shudder at the niffer; But cast a moment's fair regard, What maks the mighty differ? Discount what scant occasion gave, That purity ye pride in, And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Your better art o
Page 110 - 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!
Page 186 - But gie me a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie O; An
Page 106 - The younkers a' are warned to obey ; And mind their labours wi' an eydent hand, And ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play; " And O ! be sure to fear the Lord alway, And mind your duty, duly, morn and night ; Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright.