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Seite 85 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
Seite 69 - ... She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And, for all the wealth of Indies, Would do nothing for to hurt her. So he sighed and pined and ogled, . And his passion boiled and bubbled, Till he blew his silly brains out, And no more was by it troubled. Charlotte, having seen his body Borne before her on a shutter, Like a well-conducted person, Went on cutting bread and butter.
Seite 67 - Kneel undisturb'd, fair saint, Pour out your praise or plaint Meekly and duly. I will not enter there, To sully your pure prayer With thoughts unruly. But suffer me to pace Round the forbidden place, Lingering a minute, Like outcast spirits, who wait And see through Heaven's gate Angels within it. "Have you got any more, young fellow?
Seite 52 - Ah me! how quick the days are flitting? I mind me of a time that's gone, When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting, In this same place — but not alone. A fair young form was nestled near me, A dear, dear face looked fondly up, And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me. — There's no one now to share my cup.
Seite 109 - THERE were three sailors of Bristol city Who took a boat and went to sea. But first with beef and captain's biscuits And pickled pork they loaded she. There was gorging Jack and guzzling Jimmy, And the youngest he was little Billee. Now when they got as far as the Equator They'd nothing left but one split pea. Says gorging Jack to guzzling Jimmy,
Seite 38 - And when, its force expended, The harmless storm was ended, And. as the sunrise splendid Came blushing o'er the sea ; I thought, as day was breaking, My little girls were waking, And smiling, and making A prayer at home for me.
Seite 125 - THERE lived a sage in days of yore And he a handsome pigtail wore ; But wondered much and sorrowed more Because it hung behind him. He mused upon this curious case, And swore he'd change the pigtail's place, And have it hanging at his face, Not dangling there behind him. Says he, " The mystery I've found, — I'll turn me round," — he turned him round; But still it hung behind him.
Seite 75 - POCAHONTAS. WEARIED arm and broken sword Wage in vain the desperate fight : Round him press a countless horde, He is but a single knight. Hark ! a cry of triumph shrill Through the wilderness resounds, As, with twenty bleeding wounds, Sinks the warrior, fighting still. Now they heap the fatal pyre, And the torch of death they light ; Ah ! 'tis hard to die of fire ! Who will shield the captive knight ? Round the stake with fiendish cry Wheel and dance the savage crowd, Cold the victim's mien, and...
Seite 132 - Aux filles de bonnes maisons Comme il avait su plaire, Ses sujets avaient cent raisons De le nommer leur père : D'ailleurs il ne levait de ban Que pour tirer quatre fois l'an Au blanc. Oh! oh! oh! oh! ah! ah! ah! ah!
Seite 116 - Though thrice a thousand years are past, Since David's son, the sad and splendid, The weary King Ecclesiast, Upon his awful tablets penned it, — Methinks the text is never stale, And life is every day renewing, Fresh comments on the old, old tale Of Folly, Fortune, Glory, Ruin.