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Address appeared arms bear began blue body boys called close comes course cried dead dear death door drop eyes face fact fair Farewell fear friends gave give gone green hair half hand hard hast head hear heart hope horse John keep kind King lady learned leave letter light live London look Lord mean mind Miss moon mother never night nose once Peace play pocket poor round seemed short sing sleep soon sort soul speak stand stone stop street sure sweet tell thee There's thing thou thought took turn walk washing wish write young
Página 400 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Página 347 - ... such as come forth with the dawn, or somewhat earlier, with ,their little professional notes sounding like the peep peep of a young sparrow...
Página 354 - He has no children. All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop?
Página 486 - ... the only thing of the world that was left yet undone, whereby a notable mind might be made famous and fortunate.
Página 136 - This Swithin was a saint, I trow, And Winchester's bishop also, Who in his time did many a feat, As Popish legends do repeat ; A woman, having broke her eggs, By stumbling at another.s legs, For which she made a woful cry, St.
Página 181 - Lawk help me, I don't know where to look, or to run, if I only knew which way — A Child as is lost about London streets, and especially Seven Dials, is a needle in a 'bottle of hay. I am all in a quiver — get out of my sight, do, you wretch, you little Kitty M'Nab!
Página 376 - Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will.
Página 292 - Never go to France, Unless you know the lingo ; If you do, like me, You will repent, by jingo ; Staring like a fool, And silent as a mummy, There I stood alone, A nation with a dummy ! "Aliens! Vlte! Vite ! Vite! Vito!" " No, Mounseer, not veat — thems whoats !' OUR VILLAGE. "Sireet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain.
Página 315 - I'LL tell you a story that's not in Tom Moore : — Young Love likes to knock at a pretty girl's door : So he called upon Lucy — 'twas just ten o'clock — Like a spruce single man, with a smart double knock. Now, a handmaid, whatever her fingers be at, Will run like a puss when she hears a rat-tat- : So Lucy ran up — and in two seconds more Had questioned the stranger and answered the door.