A Vers de Société AnthologyC. Scribner's sons, 1907 - 357 páginas |
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Página xii
... Saint May : A City Lyric Pet's Punishment . Her Letter Avice . • A Song of the Four Seasons In Town When I Saw You Last , Rose To " Lydia Languish " The Old Sedan Chair " Le Roman de la Rose " Ninety - nine in the Shade Brighton Pier A ...
... Saint May : A City Lyric Pet's Punishment . Her Letter Avice . • A Song of the Four Seasons In Town When I Saw You Last , Rose To " Lydia Languish " The Old Sedan Chair " Le Roman de la Rose " Ninety - nine in the Shade Brighton Pier A ...
Página 84
... saint and sinner , So honest Terrè's run his race . " " What will Monsieur require for dinner ? " " Say , do you still cook Bouillabaisse ? ” 99 " Oh , oui , Monsieur , " is the waiter's answer , " Quel vin , Monsieur , désire - t - il ...
... saint and sinner , So honest Terrè's run his race . " " What will Monsieur require for dinner ? " " Say , do you still cook Bouillabaisse ? ” 99 " Oh , oui , Monsieur , " is the waiter's answer , " Quel vin , Monsieur , désire - t - il ...
Página 171
... saint , whom I've christened St. May . Of saints I've seen plenty in churches before— In Florence or Venice they're there by the score ; Agnese , Maria - the rest I forget- By Titian , Bassano , and brave Tintoret : They none can ...
... saint , whom I've christened St. May . Of saints I've seen plenty in churches before— In Florence or Venice they're there by the score ; Agnese , Maria - the rest I forget- By Titian , Bassano , and brave Tintoret : They none can ...
Página 172
... saint's curly jacket of black Astracan ? What coif than her bonnet - a triumph of skill- Or alb than her petticoat edged with a frill ? So sober , yet smiling - so grave , yet so gay , Oh , where is a saint like my charming St. May ? J ...
... saint's curly jacket of black Astracan ? What coif than her bonnet - a triumph of skill- Or alb than her petticoat edged with a frill ? So sober , yet smiling - so grave , yet so gay , Oh , where is a saint like my charming St. May ? J ...
Página 262
... Saint , she goes Tripping down Murray Hill , And the hands of the clock in the old brick spire Stand still , stand still , stand still ! Saint Valentine , Saint Valentine ! Oh , could you know how fair a maid- So trim of dress , and so ...
... Saint , she goes Tripping down Murray Hill , And the hands of the clock in the old brick spire Stand still , stand still , stand still ! Saint Valentine , Saint Valentine ! Oh , could you know how fair a maid- So trim of dress , and so ...
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Outras edições - Ver tudo
Palavras e frases frequentes
Aimer Arcady Austin Dobson BALLADE beauty Beware bird bliss blue blush bonnet Bouillabaisse breath bright Brighton Pier brown c'est à vivre charming cheek Coquette dainty danced darling dear dimple dress Edmund Clarence Stedman eyes face fair fingers flower fool forget Frederick Locker-Lampson frown Gelett Burgess girl glove gown hair hand handsomest head heart heigh-ho kiss knew lady laughing lips Lisette Long ago look Love's lover maid maiden merry Mortimer Collins never night o'er old Sedan chair Oliver Herford passed passion pray pretty rhyme river I-forget Robert Underwood Johnson rose Saint Valentine scorn Sedan chair sigh Sing heigh-ho smile snow soft song Spring stars summer sweet talk tell tender thee There's thing thou thought town tree Twas Valentine Vers de Société W. E. Henley wear what's whisper wonder words young
Passagens conhecidas
Página 19 - When Love with unconfine'd wings Hovers within my Gates ; And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the Grates : When I lie tangled in her hair, And fetter'd to her eye ; The Birds, that wanton in the Air, Know no such Liberty.
Página xxii - When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "It means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.
Página 15 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For, having...
Página 18 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind : No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the Sun goes round.
Página 125 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? , But where are the snows of yester-year?
Página 79 - Soft is the breath of a maiden's YES: Not the light gossamer stirs with less; But never a cable that holds so fast Through all the battles of wave and blast, And never an echo of speech or song That lives in the babbling air so long ! There were tones in the voice that whispered then You may hear to-day in a hundred men.
Página 45 - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in: Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me!
Página 3 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Página 8 - CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin ; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me?* THE SONGS...
Página 14 - Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or her merits' value known Make me quite forget mine own?