Poems of Wit and Humour

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E. Moxon, 1847 - 282 oldal

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138. oldal - One end he tied around a beam, And then removed his pegs, And, as his legs were off, — of course, He soon was off his legs! And there he hung till he was dead As any nail in town, — For though distress had cut him up, It could not cut him down! A dozen men sat on his corpse, To find out why he died — And they buried Ben in four crossroads. With a stake in his inside!
229. oldal - No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing, Play on, play on, My elfin John ! Toss the light ball, bestride the stick (I knew so many cakes would make him sick).
134. oldal - Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms ; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms ! Now as they bore him off the field, 5 Said he, "Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot...
104. oldal - I'd follow him ; But oh ! — I'm not a fish-woman, And so I cannot swim. " Alas ! I was not born beneath The Virgin and the Scales, So I must curse my cruel stars, And walk about in Wales.
158. oldal - What d'ye think of that, my Cat ? What d'ye think of that, my Dog...
228. oldal - Thou darling of thy sire ! (Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore afire!) Thou imp of mirth and joy ! In love's dear chain so strong and bright a link, Thou idol of thy parents...
257. oldal - It is the king's highway, that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions." — BUNYAS. I. WHAT ! shut the Gardens ! lock the latticed gate ! Refuse the shilling and the Fellow's ticket ! And hang a wooden notice up to state, " On Sundays no admittance at this wicket ! " The Birds, the Beasts, and all the Reptile race Denied to friends and visitors till Monday!
135. oldal - But when he called on Nelly Gray, She made him quite a scoff; And when she saw his wooden legs, Began to take them off! "O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! Is this your love so warm ? The love that loves a scarlet coat, Should be more uniform!
268. oldal - How well to rise while nights and larks are flyingFor my part getting up seems not so easy By half as lying. What if the lark does carol in the sky, Soaring beyond the sight to find him out — Wherefore am I to rise at such a fly ? I'm not a trout. Talk not to me of bees and such like hums...

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