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admiration aged Alexander Andrew Applause asked Auld Bank Brown Burns Club Burns's called Campbell Castle celebrated centenary chairman Clan Cameron Committee copy David death Died Dumfries Edinburgh edition Exhibition Federated genius George give given Glasgow Hall Hamilton hand heart held Highland honour Hotel human Instituted interest issue James January Jean John July Kilmarnock Lady letter lines literature lived London Lord Loud March Mary Mauchline meeting memory Miss nature never occasion Office once passed perhaps poems Poet Poet's portraits present President Price proposed Provost published received Road Robert Burns Rooms Rosebery Scotland Scott Scottish Secretary Smith Society songs statue Street thanks Thomas thought took Town Treasurer true Vice-President Wallace West WHISKY William Wilson writes Young
Page 41 - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause — and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave.
Page 149 - Nae cotillion brent new frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys and reels, Put life and mettle in their heels. A winnock-bunker in the east, There sat auld Nick, in shape o...
Page 20 - 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' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Page 30 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Christopher's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Page 21 - O'er yon bank and o'er yon brae. O'er yon moss amang the heather ; I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee, And follow my love through the water. Down amang the broom, the broom, Down amang the broom, my dearie, The lassie lost a silken snood, That cost her mony a blirt and bleary.
Page 107 - Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Page 72 - That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish cantrip slight Each in its cauld hand held a light— By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murderer's banes in gibbet aims; Twa span-lang, wee unchristen'd bairns; A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi...
Page 147 - Kilbarchan now may say Alas ! For she hath lost her game and grace, Both Trixie and the Maiden Trace ; But what remead ? For no man can supply his place, Hab Simson's dead. Now who shall play the Day it daws...