Poems of wit and humourMacmillan, 1897 |
Vanuit het boek
Resultaten 1-5 van 24
Pagina 35
... human kind Like that Pearkins with his Blunderbush , that's loaded with hot water , Thof a X Sherrif might know Better , than make things for slaughtter , As if War warnt Cruel enuff - wherever it befalls , Without shooting poor sogers ...
... human kind Like that Pearkins with his Blunderbush , that's loaded with hot water , Thof a X Sherrif might know Better , than make things for slaughtter , As if War warnt Cruel enuff - wherever it befalls , Without shooting poor sogers ...
Pagina 66
... human gore- The trophies it had lopp'd from many an elf Were stuck at his head - quarters by the score- Nor yet in peace he laid it on the shelf , But jested with it , and his wit cut sore ; So that ( as they of Public Houses speak ) He ...
... human gore- The trophies it had lopp'd from many an elf Were stuck at his head - quarters by the score- Nor yet in peace he laid it on the shelf , But jested with it , and his wit cut sore ; So that ( as they of Public Houses speak ) He ...
Pagina 73
... human scream ; Meanwhile , the scourge plies that unkindly seam In Phelim's brogues , which bares his naked skin , Like traitor gap in warlike fort , I deem , That falsely lets the fierce besieger in , Nor seeks the Pedagogue by other ...
... human scream ; Meanwhile , the scourge plies that unkindly seam In Phelim's brogues , which bares his naked skin , Like traitor gap in warlike fort , I deem , That falsely lets the fierce besieger in , Nor seeks the Pedagogue by other ...
Pagina 74
... human violence afoot , So hardly is the harmless biter bit ! Meanwhile , the tyrant , with untimely wit And mouthing face , derides the small one's moan , Who , all lamenting for his loss , doth sit , Alack , ―mischance comes ...
... human violence afoot , So hardly is the harmless biter bit ! Meanwhile , the tyrant , with untimely wit And mouthing face , derides the small one's moan , Who , all lamenting for his loss , doth sit , Alack , ―mischance comes ...
Pagina 92
... human face , before me watch'd alone ; But were those eyes the eyes of man that look'd against my own ? Oh ! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight As met my gaze , when first I look'd , on that accursed night ! I've seen a ...
... human face , before me watch'd alone ; But were those eyes the eyes of man that look'd against my own ? Oh ! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight As met my gaze , when first I look'd , on that accursed night ! I've seen a ...
Inhoudsopgave
69 | |
79 | |
91 | |
98 | |
103 | |
123 | |
134 | |
142 | |
148 | |
154 | |
160 | |
167 | |
174 | |
181 | |
190 | |
199 | |
206 | |
274 | |
280 | |
287 | |
295 | |
301 | |
305 | |
312 | |
319 | |
326 | |
332 | |
341 | |
348 | |
357 | |
381 | |
396 | |
403 | |
409 | |
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ALFRED AINGER began birds blood breast brown call'd clouds course cried Crooked Lane d'ye think Dame dark dead deaf dear Doctor Jones ev'ry eyes face fair fancy folks gone grave green Grundy hand hang hast hath head hear heard heart Hood's horn horrid horse huckaback Huggins Hunks hunt Hyæna John Huggins knew Lady Lady Morgan legs live look look'd Lord lullaby Miss mother mouth Nelly Gray never Newgate night nose o'er Oh Peace Old Bailey once pearlash Peter Stone POEMS poor round the Square Sally Sally Brown seem'd sight song sort soul sound stood Sunday sure sweet tell thee There's thing Thomas Hood THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON thou thought thro tongue took town Trumpet turn turn'd Twas vols walk washing Whilst William dear Zounds
Populaire passages
Pagina 226 - Thou pretty opening rose ! (Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose !) Balmy and breathing music like the South, ( He really brings my heart into my mouth !) Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star, (I wish that window had an iron bar !) Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove, — • (I'll tell you what, my love, I cannot write, unless he's sent above !) nr. A SERENADE.
Pagina 225 - Thou little tricksy Puck! With antic toys so funnily bestuck, Light as the singing bird that wings the air, (The door ! the door ! he'll tumble down the stair '.) Thou darling of thy sire ! (Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore afire !) Thou imp of mirth and joy!
Pagina 80 - But when he called on Nelly Gray, She made him quite a scoff; And when she saw his wooden legs, Began to take them off! "O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! Is this your love so warm? The love that loves a scarlet coat, Should be more uniform!
Pagina 79 - BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms ; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms ! Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, " Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot...
Pagina 61 - So when they'd made their game of her, And taken off her elf, She roused, and found she only was A coming to herself. " And is he gone, and is he gone ? " She cried, and wept outright : " Then I will to the water side, And see him out of sight.
Pagina 336 - Gardens ! lock the latticed gate ! Refuse the shilling and the Fellow's ticket ! And hang a wooden notice up to state, " On Sundays no admittance at this wicket...
Pagina 258 - What d'ye think of that, my Cat ? What d'ye think of that, my Dog ? The mother brought a pretty Poll — A monkey too, — what work he made ! The sister introduced a Beau — My Susan brought a favourite maid.
Pagina 225 - With pure heart newly stamp'd from Nature's mint— (Where did he learn that squint ?) Thou young domestic dove ! (He'll have that jug off, with another shove !) Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest!
Pagina 304 - Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone — That tuneful peal will still ring on; While...
Pagina 306 - What heads for painters' easels ! Come here and kiss the infant, dears — (And give it p'rhaps the measles !) "Your charming boys I see are home From Reverend Mr. Russell's ; 'Twos very kind to bring them both— (What boots for my new Brussels !) " What ! little Clara left at home ? Well now I call that shabby : I should have loved to kiss her so — (A flabby, dabby, babby !) "And Mr.