Rejected Addresses: Or, The New Theatrum Poetarum

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W. D. Ticknor, 1841 - English poetry - 159 pages
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Page 19 - Alike in ignorance, his reason such Whether he thinks too little or too much; Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still, by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all, Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled, The glory, jest, and riddle of the world...
Page 70 - Mid blazing beams and scalding streams, Through fire and smoke he dauntless broke Where Muggins broke before. But sulphury stench and boiling drench Destroying sight o'erwhelmed him quite, He sunk to rise no more. Still o'er his head, while Fate he braved, His whizzing water-pipe he waved ; " Whitford and Mitford, ply your pumps, You, Clutterbuck, come, stir your stumps, Why are you in such doleful dumps ? A fireman, and afraid of bumps ! — What are they fear'd on ? fools, 'od rot 'em ! " Were...
Page 11 - I'm speaking, where's papa? And where's my aunt? and where's mamma? Where's Jack? Oh, there they sit! They smile, they nod; I'll go my ways, And order round poor Billy's chaise, To join them in the pit. And now, good gentlefolks, I go To join mamma, and see the show; So, bidding you adieu, I curtsey, like a pretty miss, And if you'll blow to me a kiss, I'll blow a kiss to you.
Page 95 - MY pensive Public, wherefore look you sad? I had a grandmother, she kept a donkey To carry to the mart her crockery ware, And when that donkey look'd me in the face, His face was sad ! and you are sad, my Public ! Joy should be yours : this tenth day of October Again assembles us in Drury Lane.
Page 8 - O, my stars ! He pokes her head between the bars, And melts off half her nose ! Quite cross, a bit of string I beg, And tie it to his peg-top's peg, And bang, with might and main, Its head against the parlour-door : Off flies the head, and hits the floor, And breaks a window-pane.
Page 19 - Chaos of thought and passion all confused ; Still by himself abused, or disabused ; Created half to rise and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled ; The glory, jest, and riddle of the world ! Go, wondrous creature!
Page 68 - Whitford, keep near the walls ! Huggins, regard your own behoof. For, lo ! the blazing rocking roof Down, down in thunder falls ! An awful pause succeeds the stroke, And o'er the ruins volumed smoke, Rolling around its pitchy shroud, Concealed them from the astonished crowd.
Page 126 - Six years had pass'd, and forty ere the six, " When Time began to play his usual tricks : " The locks once comely in a virgin's sight, " Locks of pure brown, display'd th...
Page 69 - He tottered, sunk, and died ! Did none attempt, before he fell, To succour one they loved so well ? Yes, Higginbottom did aspire (His fireman's soul was all on fire) His brother chief to save ; But ah ! his reckless generous ire Served but to share his grave ! 'Mid blazing beams and scalding streams, Through fire and smoke he dauntless broke, Where Muggins broke before.
Page 72 - Have cut the bauble off. Yes, she exalts her stately head ; And, but that solid bulk outspread, Opposed you on your onward tread, And posts and pillars warranted That all was true that Wyatt said, You might have...

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