. Home school of American literature: . Wilt thou be my dearie? Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon. To see the rose and woodbine tw.]>*;And ilka bird sang o its luve. And fondly sae did I o lightsome heart I pud a rose, Fu sweet upon its thorny tree;And my false lover stole my rose. But ah ! he left the thorn wi me. 57^ ROBERT BURNS. MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN. HEN chill Novembers surly blastMade fields and forests bare,One evening, as I wanderd forthAlong the banks of Ayr,I spied a man, whose aged step Seemd wearyd, worn with care ;His face was furrowd oer with years,And hoary was his hair.
. Home school of American literature: . Wilt thou be my dearie? Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon. To see the rose and woodbine tw.]>*;And ilka bird sang o its luve. And fondly sae did I o lightsome heart I pud a rose, Fu sweet upon its thorny tree;And my false lover stole my rose. But ah ! he left the thorn wi me. 57^ ROBERT BURNS. MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN. HEN chill Novembers surly blastMade fields and forests bare,One evening, as I wanderd forthAlong the banks of Ayr,I spied a man, whose aged step Seemd wearyd, worn with care ;His face was furrowd oer with years,And hoary was his hair. Young stranger, whither wanderest thou? (Began the reverend sage ;)Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain. And every time has added proofsThat man was made to mourn. O man ! while in thy early years, How prodigal of time !Mis-spending all thy precious hours Thy glorious youthful prime !Alternate follies take the sway ; Licentious passions burn;Which tenfold force give Natures law, That man was made to Man Was Made to Mourn. Or youthful pleasures rage ?Or haply, prest with cares and woes, Too soon thou hast began,To wander forth, with me, to mourn The miseries of man ! The sun that overhangs yon moors,Out-spreading far and wide. Where hundreds labor to supportA haughty lordlings pride ; Ive seen yon weary winter-sunTwice forty times return; Look not alone on youthful prime, Or manhoods active might:Man then is useful to his kind, Supported is his see him on the edge of life. With cares and sorrows age and want, oh ! ill-matched pair 5 Show man was made to mourn. Many and sharp the numerous ills Inwoven with our frame !More pointed still we make ourselves, ROBERT BURNS, 579 Regret, remorse, and shame !And man, whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn,Mans inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn ! Yet, let not this too much, my thy youthful breast: This partial view of human-kindIs surely not the last! The poor, oppres
Size: 1940px × 1288px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectenglishliterature
