Poems, 1. kötetA. Millar, J. Rivington, W. Johnston, and T. Becket, 1761 - 307 oldal |
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aboon ALLAN RAMSAY auld baith bauld beauties blate blyth bonny braw breaſt canna charms cou'd cry'd defign e'en e'er eaſe Edinburgh fafely faft faid fair fame fang faul fear feem feen fenfe fhall fhaw fhine fhould filks filly fince fing firft flain fleep fmile foft fome foon foul fowk fpirits fpring frae freſh ftand ftill fuch fung fure fwain fweet gart girn grace ha'e heart heav'n Hector Boece honour ilka laffes laft laſt Lucky maun mind mony mufe muft nae mair ne'er numbers o'er PATIE Plaid pleaſe pleaſure poets Quoth reft rhime RICHY rife ſay Scots ſhall ſhe ſkill ſweet Syne tell thee thefe themſelves there's theſe thou thought thro unco uſe verfe vex'd whofe wife wou'd ye'r
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214. oldal - Be sure ye dinna quat the grip Of ilka joy when ye are young, Before auld age your vitals nip, And lay ye twafald o'er a rung. Sweet youth's a...
81. oldal - From vulgar -bounds with brave diforder part, And fnatch a grace beyond the reach of art, Which, without paffing thro' the judgment, gains The heart, and all its end at once attains.
164. oldal - Polwart on the Green If you'll meet me the morn, Where lasses do convene To dance about the thorn, A kindly welcome you shall meet Frae her wha likes to view A lover and a lad complete, The lad and lover you.
167. oldal - THE AIR. Now the sun's gane out o' sight, Beet the ingle, and snuff the light ; In glens the fairies skip and dance, And witches wallop o'er to France ; Up in the air, On my bonny grey mare, ,And I see hei; yet, and I see her yet, Up in, &c. The wind's drifting hail and sna' O'er frozen hags like a footba' ; Nae starns keek thro' the azure slit, 'Tis cauld and mirk as ony pit ; The man i' the moon Is carousing aboon, D' ye see, d' ye see, d' ye see him yet ? The man, &c.
214. oldal - Minutes of Delyte, When Jenny speaks beneath her Breath, And kisses, laying a the Wyte On you if she kepp ony Skaith.
49. oldal - And thought I ne'er could alter ; But Mary Gray's twa pawky een, They gar my fancy falter. Now Bessy's hair's like a lint-tap ; She smiles like a May morning, When Phoebus starts frae Thetis...
163. oldal - And fair fimmer-mornings nae mair appear ruddy, Bid Britons think ae gate, and when they obey ye, But never till that time, believe I'll betray ye. Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee ; The ftarns mall gang witherfhins ere I deceive thee.
11. oldal - ... with that of the dice (which may fall upon himself if the number be within twelve) ; then he sets the dice to him, or bids him take them: he on whom they fall is obliged to drink, or pay a small forfeiture in money, then throws, and so on. But if he forget to cry "Hy-jinks !" he pays a forfeiture into the bank.
50. oldal - Now wat ye wha I met yestreen, Coming down the street, my jo ? My mistress in her tartan screen, Fu' bonny, braw, and sweet, my jo.
12. oldal - A rare project this," adds honest Allan, " and no bubble, I can assure you ; for a covetous fellow may save money, and get himself as drunk as he can desire in less than an hour's time.