Vers de SociétéH. Holt, 1875 - 401 psl. |
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17 psl.
... of Aunty , I've ridden the filly you broke ; And I've studied your sweet little Dante In the shade of your favorite oak : When I sat in I sat in your July to Sir Lawrence , love of a shawl ; OUR BALL . And I'll wear what you brought me 2 ...
... of Aunty , I've ridden the filly you broke ; And I've studied your sweet little Dante In the shade of your favorite oak : When I sat in I sat in your July to Sir Lawrence , love of a shawl ; OUR BALL . And I'll wear what you brought me 2 ...
211 psl.
... Sing to us then . LAWRENCE . Damotas in a choker , Much out of tune , will edify the rooks . FRANK . Sing you again . So musical a croaker . Surely will draw the fish upon the hooks . AN AUTUMN IDYL . Sing while you may . JACK 211.
... Sing to us then . LAWRENCE . Damotas in a choker , Much out of tune , will edify the rooks . FRANK . Sing you again . So musical a croaker . Surely will draw the fish upon the hooks . AN AUTUMN IDYL . Sing while you may . JACK 211.
214 psl.
... LAWRENCE . Best is the song with music interwoven : Mine's a musician , -musical at heart , - Throbs to the gathered grieving of Beethoven , Sways to the light coquetting of Mozart . AN AUTUMN IDYL . FRANK . Best ? You should 214.
... LAWRENCE . Best is the song with music interwoven : Mine's a musician , -musical at heart , - Throbs to the gathered grieving of Beethoven , Sways to the light coquetting of Mozart . AN AUTUMN IDYL . FRANK . Best ? You should 214.
215 psl.
... LAWRENCE . Ah , when the thick night flares , with drooping torches , Ah , when the crush - room empties of the swarm , Pleasant the hand that , in the gusty porches , Light as a snow - flake , settles on your arm . FRANK . Better the ...
... LAWRENCE . Ah , when the thick night flares , with drooping torches , Ah , when the crush - room empties of the swarm , Pleasant the hand that , in the gusty porches , Light as a snow - flake , settles on your arm . FRANK . Better the ...
217 psl.
... LAWRENCE . " Jack's sister Florence ! " Never , Francis , never . Jack , do you hear ? Why , it was she I meant . She like the country ! Ah , she's far too clever- FRANK . There you are wrong . I know her down in Kent . LAWRENCE . You ...
... LAWRENCE . " Jack's sister Florence ! " Never , Francis , never . Jack , do you hear ? Why , it was she I meant . She like the country ! Ah , she's far too clever- FRANK . There you are wrong . I know her down in Kent . LAWRENCE . You ...
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ALFRED TENNYSON ANGORA CAT Araminta AUTUMN IDYL Ball BALL-ROOM beauty BELLE beneath better bird bliss blue Bouillabaisse BRAZEN HEAD bright Burnham-beeches cane-bottom'd chair cheek CLAPHAM ACADEMY COLERAINE dance dear dreams eyes fair To fill fill my glass flowers Folly FRANK friends GARDEN IDYL girl gone good-night hair hand happy hear heart HENRY LUTTRELL IRISH EYES Katydid kiss lady laugh on to-day LAWRENCE LETTICE WHITE light Lilian lips look maid Miss morning MORTIMER COLLINS neighbor Nelly never o'er ODE ON CLAPHAM once PALL MALL perhaps pleasant pleasure poet poor pretty reason fair rhyme rose ROSE SONG round sigh Sing heigh-ho smile soft song SPECTATOR AB EXTRA sweet talk tell tender thee There's think's a reason THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY thou thought tree TU QUOQUE Twas vers de société vex'd wife young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
71 psl. - Man wants but little here below." Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone (A very plain brown stone will do, That I may call my own And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten; If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three. Amen!
255 psl. - A month or more hath she been dead, Yet cannot I by force be led To think upon the wormy bed And her together. A springy motion in her gait, A rising step, did indicate Of pride and joy no common rate That flush'd her spirit: I know not by what name beside I shall it call: if 'twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied She did inherit.
72 psl. - ... call my own; And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten; If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three. Amen ! I always thought cold victual nice; My choice would be vanilla-ice.
76 psl. - But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff. And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh.
76 psl. - Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets. And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan ; And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said,
301 psl. - How pleasant it is to have money. I sit at my table en grand seigneur, And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor ; Not only the pleasure, one's self, of good living, But also the pleasure of now and then giving. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho ! So pleasant it is to have money.
299 psl. - In golden quiets of the moon. The winter wind is not so cold As the bright smile he sees me win, Nor the host's oldest wine so old As our poor gabble sour and thin.
284 psl. - Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse ! Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream. Then why pause with indecision. When bright angels in thy vision Beckon thee to fields Elysian? Seest thou shadows sailing by, As the dove, with startled eye Sees the falcon's shadow fly? Hearest thou voices on the shore, That our ears perceive no more, Deafened by the cataract's roar? O, thou child of many prayers...
110 psl. - Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit; Laughter and wit Flashing so free. Life is but short When we are gone, Let them sing on Round the old tree.
9 psl. - Fly not yet" upon the river ; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows, and then we parted. We parted ; months and years rolled by ; We met again four summers after : Our parting was all sob and sigh; Our meeting was all mirth and laughter : For in my heart's most secret cell There had been many other lodgers ; And she was not the ball-room Belle, But only Mrs.