The book of ballads [by sir T. Martin and W.E. Aytoun] ed. by Bon Gaultier

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Página 93 - I hear the singing of a lot of favourite tunes — Bless my heart, how very odd! Why, surely there's a brace of moons! See! the stars! how bright they twinkle, winking with a frosty glare, Like my faithless cousin Amy when she drove me to despair. Oh, my cousin, spider-hearted! Oh, my Amy! No, confound it! I must wear the mournful willow, — all around my heart I've bound it.
Página 94 - ... hookah, — something less than his cayenne. What is this? His eyes are pinky. Was't the claret? Oh, no, no, — Bless your soul, it was the salmon, — salmon always makes him so. Take him to thy dainty chamber — soothe him with thy lightest fancies, He will understand thee, won't he? — pay thee with a lover's glances? Louder than the loudest trumpet, harsh as harshest ophicleide, Nasal respirations answer the endearments of his bride. Sweet response, delightful music! Gaze upon thy noble...
Página 147 - d do like me When I was young and strong; I formed a passion every week, But never kept it long. But he has not the sportive mood That always rescued me, And so I would all women could Be banished o'er the sea. For 'tis the most egregious bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago.
Página 72 - He said that I was proud, mother, — that I looked for rank and gold ; He said I did not love him, — he said my words were cold ; He said I kept him off and on, in hopes of higher game, — And it may be that I did, mother, but who hasn't done the same? I did not know my heart, mother, — I know it now too late ; I thought that I without a pang could wed some nobler mate ; But no nobler suitor sought me, — and he has taken wing. And my heart is gone, and I am left a lone and blighted thing.
Página 201 - 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. Thou wilt not sure deny me My first and fond request; I pray thee, by the memory Of all we cherish best — By all the dear remembrance Of those delicious days, When, hand in hand, we wandered...
Página 167 - With thoughts like these her mind is cross'd : The dame, they say, who doubts, is lost. " But then the risk ? I '11 beg a slice Of Father Raulin's good advice." Prankt in her best, with looks demure, She seeks the priest; and, to be sure, Asks if he thinks she ought to wed : " With such a business on my head, I 'm worried off my legs with care, And need some help to keep things square.
Página 96 - em. Womankind no more shall vex me, such at least as go arrayed In the most expensive satins and the newest silk brocade. I '11 to Afric, lion-haunted, where the giant forest yields Rarer robes and finer tissue than are sold at Spitalfields. Or to burst all chains of habit, flinging habit's self aside, I shall walk the tangled jungle in mankind's primeval pride; Feeding on the luscious berries and the rich cassava root, Lots of dates, and lots of guavas, clusters of forbidden fruit. Never comes the...
Página 124 - T was thus the cry began, And straightway every garret-roof gave up its minstrel man ; From Grub Street, and from Houndsditch, and from Farringdon Within, The poets all towards Whitehall poured on with eldritch din. " Loud yelled they for Sir James the Graham ; but sore afraid was he ; A hardy knight were he that might face such a minstrelsie. ' Now by St. Giles of Netherby, my patron Saint, I swear, I'd rather by a thousand crowns Lord Palmerston were here ! — "' What is 't ye seek, ye rebel knaves...
Página 98 - WANTED — By a bard, in wedlock, some young interesting woman: Looks are not so much an object, if the shiners be forthcoming! "Hymen's chains the advertiser vows shall be but silken fetters; Please address to AT, Chelsea. NB — You must pay the letters.

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