Punch, 62–63 tomaiMark Lemon, Henry Mayhew, Tom Taylor, Shirley Brooks, Francis Cowley Burnand, Owen Seaman Punch Publications Limited, 1872 |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Punch, 62–63 tomai Mark Lemon,Henry Mayhew,Tom Taylor,Shirley Brooks,Francis Cowley Burnand,Owen Seaman Visos knygos peržiūra - 1872 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
admiration advertisement Alabama Claims answer appear Athanasian Creed Aunt AYRTON Ballot BARLOW better Bill Bishop boys British BULL called Captain Chignons Church Clerkenwell Commons course dear dinner dress drink England ENGLEMORE English eyes feel Fleet Street Gardener garotters gentleman give GLADSTONE Government hand Happy Thought HARRY head hear heard honour hope House HUMBLE PIE JOHN BULL Joseph Smith labour Leicester Square liquor London look LORD MALAPROP MASTER TOMMY means MICKLETON MILBURD mind MISS MOMPISON morning never night once Opéra Bouffe Park Parliament perhaps persons play poor POPE present Punch question reason remark reply Sabbatarian SIR WILFRID LAWSON sort Street strike Sunday suppose talk Teetotal tell Theatre there's thing Tichborne tion TREGONY Ultramontane Uncle vote week wish word
Populiarios ištraukos
134 psl. - Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But, oh ! she dances such a way— No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
235 psl. - The subjects of every state ought to contribute towards the support of the government, as nearly as possible, in proportion to their respective abilities; that is, in proportion to the revenue which they respectively enjoy under the protection of the state.
199 psl. - Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. 'No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.
115 psl. - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
16 psl. - A weapon that comes down as still As snow-flakes fall upon the sod, But executes a freeman's will As lightning does the will of God ; And from its force nor doors nor locks Can shield you; — 'tis the ballot-box.
227 psl. - I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta : never did I hear Such gallant chiding ; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry : I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
236 psl. - For this reason,' he would add, ' one ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.
16 psl. - That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.