Poets' Wit and Humour

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D. Appleton and Company, 1861 - 277 pages
 

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Page 32 - Compar'd to that was next her chin (Some bee had stung it newly ; ) But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face, I durst no more upon them gaze Than on the sun in July.
Page 254 - That there wasn'ta chance for one to start, For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, And the floor was just as strong as the sills And the panels just as strong as the floor, And the whipple-tree neither less nor more, And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore. And spring and axle and hub encore. And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt In another hour it will be worn out!
Page 253 - Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth.
Page 213 - So when they'd made their game of her, And taken off her elf, She roused, and found she only was A coming to herself. " And is he gone, and is he gone ? " She cried, and wept outright : " Then I will to the water side, And see him out of sight.
Page 34 - Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt; Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull...
Page 69 - Tis a stranger sues, A virgin tragedy, an orphan Muse." If I dislike it, "Furies, death and rage!" If I approve, "Commend it to the stage.
Page 252 - He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from the
Page 218 - For ennui is a growth of English root, Though nameless in our language : — we retort The fact for words, and let the French translate That awful yawn which sleep cannot abate.
Page 117 - I'll eat him." He said : then full before their sight Produced the beast, and lo! — 'twas white. Both stared, the man looked wondrous wise — "My children," the chameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue), "You all are right, and all are wrong: When next you talk of what you view, Think others see as well as you: Nor wonder, if you find that none Prefers your eyesight to his own.
Page 68 - All fly to TWIT'NAM, and in humble strain Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.

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