While Goldsmith lay a-dying in London, in the breezy Scottish Lowlands a big rough lad of fifteen called Robert
Burns was following his father's plow by day, poring over Shakespeare, the Spectator, and Pope's Homer, of nights, not knowing that in years to come he was to be remembered as our greatest song writer.
"
Burns" (such it seems was her name: the girls here were all called by their surnames, as boys are elsewhere), "
Burns, you are standing on the side of your shoe; turn your toes out immediately." "
Burns, you poke your chin most unpleasantly; draw it in." "
Burns, I insist on your holding your head up; I will not have you before me in that attitude," &c.
burn the poor devils who are only condemned to be hung?
The straw, however, began to
burn, broke in two pieces, and fell into the stream.
"Paper Valdez
burn tell of lost city?" asked Tal, his face lighting up.
Opening another book he saw it was "Palmerin de Oliva," and beside it was another called "Palmerin of England," seeing which the licentiate said, "Let the Olive be made firewood of at once and
burned until no ashes even are left; and let that Palm of England be kept and preserved as a thing that stands alone, and let such another case be made for it as that which Alexander found among the spoils of Darius and set aside for the safe keeping of the works of the poet Homer.
Burns motioned to sit down, dropped into one of the swivel-chairs round the table, and kept his eyes on me as persistently as ever, and with that strange air as if all this were make-believe and he expected me to get up, burst into a laugh, slap him on the back, and vanish from the cabin.
They went away without thinking of the tremendous significance of that immense and wealthy city being given over to destruction, for a great city with wooden buildings was certain when abandoned by its inhabitants to be
burned. They went away each on his own account, and yet it was only in consequence of their going away that the momentous event was accomplished that will always remain the greatest glory of the Russian people.
She rubbed another against the wall: it
burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room.
ROBERT
BURNS. Blake, deeply romantic as he is by nature, virtually stands by himself, apart from any movement or group, and the same is equally true of the somewhat earlier lyrist in whom eighteenth century poetry culminates, namely Robert
Burns.
"Damnation!" he screamed, in sudden passion, stamping on the floor, and pulling furiously at the hair, as if it
burned him.
The parted mouth of Tashtego revealed his shark-white teeth, which strangely gleamed as if they too had been tipped by corpusants; while lit up by the preternatural light, Queequeg's tattooing
burned like Satanic blue flames on his body.
