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Page 182 - Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I would rise to explain. Ah Sin was his name; And I shall not deny, In regard to the same, What that name might imply; But his smile it was pensive and childlike, As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye.
Page 192 - They went to sea in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they went to sea: In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, In a Sieve they went to sea! And when the Sieve turned round and round, And every one cried, 'You'll all be drowned!
Page 185 - Which was coming it strong, Yet I state but the facts; And we found on his nails, which were taper, What is frequent in tapers — that's wax. Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are- dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
Page 77 - With bitings of agonized bliss; We are sick with the poison of pleasure, Dispense us the potion of pain; Ope thy mouth to its uttermost measure And bite us again!
Page 184 - On the cuff of his shirt He had managed to get What we hoped had been dirt, But which proved, I regret, To be notes on the rise of the drama, A question invariably set. In his various coats We proceeded to seek, Where we found sundry notes And — with sorrow I speak — One of Bonn's publications, so useful To the student of Latin or Greek.
Page 192 - Oh! won't they be soon upset, you know? For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long; And, happen what may, it's extremely wrong In a sieve to sail so fast.
Page 191 - There was a young gourmand of John's, Who'da notion of dining on swans. To the Backs he took big nets To capture the cygnets, But was told they were kept for the Dons.
Page 168 - The papers they had finished lay In piles of blue and white, They answered everything they could, And wrote with all their might, But though they wrote it all by rote, They did not write it right. The Vulture and the Husbandman ' Besides these piles did stand , They wept like anything to see The work they had in hand : " If this were only finished up...
Page 160 - Hast thou eaten and drunk to excess Of the sponges — thy muffins and crumpets, Of the seaweed — thy mustard and cress? Wast thou nurtured in caverns of coral, Remote from reproof or restraint? Art thou innocent, art thou immoral, Sinburnian or Saint? Lithe limbs, curling free, as a creeper That creeps in a desolate place, To...
Page 77 - O lips full of lust and of laughter, Curled snakes that are fed from my breast Bite hard, lest remembrance come after And press with new lips where you pressed. For my heart too springs up at the pressure, Mine eyelids too moisten and burn; Ah, feed me and fill me with pleasure, Ere pain come in turn.