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alligator armour art thou Assaye auld bard Bavieca bays beer beneath beside better bosom bound bowie-knife brave breath bright brow Bryant caitiff cheek cheroot Colt courser cousin Caroline cried Cursed dark dear Don Fernando dost Doudney Brothers doun Evermore fear Fernando Gomersalez Fhairshon Fitzball Gazed gentle Giaour ginger beer glance Gouge grew gude hame hand Hark hath head hear heart janissaries King kiss knee Laureate Laureate's liege Life-Guardsman lips look Lord Lord Aberdeen loud Lucullus Lynch minstrel monarch Moorish Moorish maiden mother Netherby never night noble o'er onward Peter Bell Prince Prince Albert puddock-pies Queen rose round sang Sate Silas sing sleep Slingsby smoking Snapping Turtle song soul speed thee Spitalfields stood sweet taylzeour tell thine eyes thou art Twas Undine valiant warrior Warriors three ween Wherefore wine Woolfordinez Wordsworth Young Mivins
Page 33 - Oh, that would be the post for me! With plenty to get and nothing to do, But to deck a pet poodle with ribbons of blue, And whistle a tune to the Queen's cockatoo, And scribble of verses remarkably few, And empty at evening a bottle or two, Quaffingly, quaffingly!
Page 17 - Fool, again the dream, the fancy ! but I know my words are wild, But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child.
Page 18 - I to wed with Coromantees! I, who managed — very near — To secure the heart and fortune of the widow Shillibeer! Stuff and nonsense! let me never fling a single chance away; Maids ere now, I know, have loved me, and another maiden may. Morning Post...
Page 125 - I feel thy arms about me, Thy tresses on my cheek: I know the sweet devotion That links thy heart with mine, — I know my soul's emotion Is doubly felt by thine : And deem not that a shadow Hath fallen across my love : No, sweet, my love is shadowless, As yonder heaven above. These little taper fingers — Ah, Jane ! how white they be ! — Can well supply the cruel want That almost maddens me.
Page 29 - Fitzball!' They led our Wordsworth to the Queen — she crowned him with the bays, And wished him many happy years, and many quarter-days; And if you'd have the story told by abler lips than mine, You've but to call at Rydal Mount, and taste the Laureate's wine!
Page 18 - That's the sort of thing to do it. Now I'll go and taste the balmy, — Rest thee with thy yellow nabob, spider-hearted Cousin Amy!
Page 13 - Comrades, you may pass the rosy. With permission of the chair, I shall leave you for a little, for I'd like to take the air. Whether 'twas the sauce at dinner, or that glass of ginger-beer, Or these strong cheroots, I know not, but I feel a little queer.
Page 32 - Tis I would be the Laureate bold! When the days are hot, and the sun is strong, I'd lounge in the gateway all the day long, With her Majesty's footmen in crimson and gold.
Page 136 - In welcome o' their Queen ; What gars ye look sae white, Albert, What makes your e'e sae green ?" " My heart is sick, my heid is sair, Gie me a glass o' the gude brandie: To set my foot on the braid green sward, I 'd gie the half o' my yearly fee. " It's sweet to hunt the sprightly hare On the bonny slopes o' Windsor lea, But O, it's ill to bear the thud And pitching o