Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2025.
✖
A Satire Anthology
Автор
Год написания книги
2017
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
For daily bread the dirty trade they ply,
Coin their fresh tales, and live upon the lie.
Like bees for honey, forth for news they spring —
Industrious creatures! ever on the wing;
Home to their several cells they bear the store,
Culled of all kinds, then roam abroad for more.
George Crabbe.
ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS
OH, ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious an’ sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark an’ tell
Your neibour’s fauts an’ folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi’ store o’ water,
The heapéd happer’s ebbing still,
An’ still the clap plays clatter.
Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals,
That frequent pass douce Wisdom’s door,
For glaiket Folly’s portals:
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences,
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings an’ mischances.
Ye see your state wi’ theirs compar’d,
An’ shudder at the niffer,
But cast a moment’s fair regard,
What mak’s the mighty differ?
Discount what scant occasion gave,
That purity ye pride in,
An’ (what’s aft mair than a’ the lave)
Your better art o’ hiding.
Think, when your castigated pulse
Gi’es now an’ then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop.
Wi’ wind an’ tide fair i’ your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o’ baith to sail,
It makes an unco lee-way.
See social life an’ glee sit down,
All joyous an’ unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they’re grown
Debauchery an’ drinking:
Oh, would they stay to calculate
Th’ eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses!
Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gi’e poor frailty names,
Suppose a change o’ cases;
A dear loved lad, convenience snug,
A treacherous inclination —
But, let me whisper i’ your lug,
Ye’re aiblins nae temptation.
Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Though they may gang a kennin’ wrang,
To step aside is human.
One point must still be greatly dark,
The moving why they do it;
An’ just as lamely can ye mark
How far, perhaps, they rue it
Who made the heart, ’tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord – its various tone,
Each spring – its various bias;
Then at the balance let’s be mute —
We never can adjust it;
What’s done we partly may compute,
But know not what’s resisted.
Robert Burns.
HOLY WILLIE’S PRAYER
O THOU, wha in the heavens dost dwell,
Wha, as it pleases best Thysel,
Sends ane to heaven an’ ten to hell,
A’ for Thy glory,
And no for ony guid or ill
They’ve done before Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou hast left in night,
That I am here, before Thy sight,
For gifts an’ grace,
A burnin’ an’ a shinin’ light
To a’ this place.
Coin their fresh tales, and live upon the lie.
Like bees for honey, forth for news they spring —
Industrious creatures! ever on the wing;
Home to their several cells they bear the store,
Culled of all kinds, then roam abroad for more.
George Crabbe.
ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS
OH, ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious an’ sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark an’ tell
Your neibour’s fauts an’ folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi’ store o’ water,
The heapéd happer’s ebbing still,
An’ still the clap plays clatter.
Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals,
That frequent pass douce Wisdom’s door,
For glaiket Folly’s portals:
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences,
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings an’ mischances.
Ye see your state wi’ theirs compar’d,
An’ shudder at the niffer,
But cast a moment’s fair regard,
What mak’s the mighty differ?
Discount what scant occasion gave,
That purity ye pride in,
An’ (what’s aft mair than a’ the lave)
Your better art o’ hiding.
Think, when your castigated pulse
Gi’es now an’ then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop.
Wi’ wind an’ tide fair i’ your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o’ baith to sail,
It makes an unco lee-way.
See social life an’ glee sit down,
All joyous an’ unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they’re grown
Debauchery an’ drinking:
Oh, would they stay to calculate
Th’ eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses!
Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gi’e poor frailty names,
Suppose a change o’ cases;
A dear loved lad, convenience snug,
A treacherous inclination —
But, let me whisper i’ your lug,
Ye’re aiblins nae temptation.
Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Though they may gang a kennin’ wrang,
To step aside is human.
One point must still be greatly dark,
The moving why they do it;
An’ just as lamely can ye mark
How far, perhaps, they rue it
Who made the heart, ’tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord – its various tone,
Each spring – its various bias;
Then at the balance let’s be mute —
We never can adjust it;
What’s done we partly may compute,
But know not what’s resisted.
Robert Burns.
HOLY WILLIE’S PRAYER
O THOU, wha in the heavens dost dwell,
Wha, as it pleases best Thysel,
Sends ane to heaven an’ ten to hell,
A’ for Thy glory,
And no for ony guid or ill
They’ve done before Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou hast left in night,
That I am here, before Thy sight,
For gifts an’ grace,
A burnin’ an’ a shinin’ light
To a’ this place.
Другие электронные книги автора Carolyn Wells
Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее