The Land of Burns: A Series of Landscapes and Portraits, Illustrative of the Life and Writings of the Scottish Poet. The Landscapes from Paintings Made Expressly for the Work, Volums 1-2Blackie and son, 1840 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
acquainted afterwards Ainslie Alloway Kirk ancient appearance Auchtertyre Auld Ayrshire banks bard beautiful Birks of Aberfeldy Blacklock bonnie braes Bruce burgh Burns's Carrick Cassillis castle character church circumstances Craigieburn daughter Doon Doonholm Douglas Dr Currie Dr Laurie DRUMLANRIG CASTLE Duke Dumfries Dunlop Earl Edinburgh Ellisland engraving erected father feet Gavin Hamilton genius gentleman Gilbert Burns Hamilton Highland Hill honour island James John Kenmure Kilmarnock king Kirkcudbright Kirkoswald lady lake land letter Lincluden Loch Lochlomond Lord mansion Mauchline Maybole miles mind monument Moore Mossgiel neighbouring night Nith old bridge parish person poems poet poet's possession present recollection remarkable residence river Robert Robert Burns rock ruins Rumbling Bridge says scene Scotland Scottish seat seen Shanter side situated song stream Syme Tarbolton thee thou took town vale verses village visited Wallace William woods writer
Passatges populars
Pàgina 32 - My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Pàgina 82 - The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, The birds sang love on every spray, Till too, too soon, the glowing west Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.
Pàgina 66 - ... 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" thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
Pàgina 80 - Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour 'can I forget, Can I forget the hallow'd grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love?
Pàgina 80 - O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly : And mouldering now in silent dust That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core Shall live my Highland Mary.
Pàgina 2 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large and of a dark cast, which glowed, I say literally glowed, when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head, though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time.
Pàgina 2 - His person was strong and robust ; his manners rustic, not clownish — a sort of dignified plainness and simplicity, which received part of its effect, perhaps, from one's knowledge of his extraordinary talents. His features are represented in Mr. Nasmyth's picture ; but to me it conveys the idea that they are diminished, as if seen in perspective.
Pàgina 70 - We had a long and serious conversation about his present situation, and the approaching termination of all his earthly prospects. He spoke of his death without any of the~ ostentation of philosophy, but with firmness as well as feeling, as an event likely to happen very soon ; and which gave him concern chiefly from leaving his four children so young and unprotected, and his wife in so interesting a situation — in hourly expectation of lying in of a fifth.
Pàgina 2 - I would have taken the Poet, had I not known what he was, for a very sagacious country farmer of the old Scotch school ; that is, none of your modern agriculturists, who keep labourers for their drudgery, but the douce gudeman who held his own plough.
Pàgina 32 - 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.