246. Song-Robin Shure in Hairst (Robert Burns Poem)
HIS face with smile eternal drest, Just like the Landlord's to his Guest's, High as they hang with creaking din, ...
HIS face with smile eternal drest, Just like the Landlord's to his Guest's, High as they hang with creaking din, ...
As a girl, she hated the grain of anything on her fins. Now she is part fire ant, part centipede. ...
Far from the Rappahannock, the silent Danube moves along toward the sea. The brown and green Nile rolls slowly Like ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
KILMARNOCK wabsters, fidge an' claw, An' pour your creeshie nations; An' ye wha leather rax an' draw, Of a' denominations; ...
I THINK we are too ready with complaint In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope Indeed beyond ...
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