The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood: With a Memoir, Volum 2Dodd, Mead, 1867 |
Innhold
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
bear a gun bell blue boys breath BRIDGET JONES Change rings course cried dead dear door drouth DUGGINS Eau de Cologne eyes face fame fancy Farewell fear folks friends give God nose green hair hand head hear heart Heaven horse JOSEPH GRIMALDI keep lady Lady Morgan light live look Lord meruit ferat Miss moon morning mother ne'er never night Nore nose Number o'er Oh Peace Old Bailey once Palmam qui meruit pearlash perchance Peter Stone play Pompey poor potted shrimps round Saint seemed sigh sing sleep Sogers soul stood sure sweet tail tears tell thee There's no Romance thing thou hast thought thro Tunbridge turn Twas twill walk washing window wish young Zounds
Populære avsnitt
Side 152 - So, while I fondly imagined we were deceiving my relations, and flattered myself that I should outwit and incense them all — behold my hopes are to be crushed at once, by my aunt's consent and approbation — and I am myself the only dupe at last! — [Walking about in a heat.] But here, sir, here is the picture...
Side 26 - ... To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells Ring Sabbath knells ; The jubilate of the soaring lark Is chant of clerk ; For choir, the thrush and the gregarious linnet ; The sod's a cushion for his pious want ; And, consecrated by the heav'n within it, The sky-blue pool, a font.
Side 54 - Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out — Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, Denying to his frantic clutch much touch...
Side 59 - He came, and knelt with all his fat. And made an offer plump. Said she, my taste will never learn To like so huge a man, So I must beg you will come here As little as you can.
Side 36 - The meeting sweet that made me thrill, The sweetmeats almost sweeter still, No ' satis ' to the 'jams !' — When that I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy, My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye, To cast a look behind ! FAIR INES.
Side 21 - Headrigg's mother, The Bible in one hand, And my own common-place-book in the other — But you have been to Palestine — alas ! Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, Resemble copper wire, or brass, Which gets the narrower by going farther...
Side 452 - When like a lobster boiled, the morn From black to red began to turn,' Till midnight, when I went to bed, And clapped my tewtth-diddte on my head.
Side 35 - Christmas come ! The prize of merit, won for home — Merit had prizes then ! But now I write for days and days, For fame — a deal of empty praise, Without the silver pen ! Then " home, sweet home !" the crowded coach — The joyous shout — the loud approach — The winding horns like rams...
Side 35 - Oh for the lessons learn'd by heart ! Ay, though the very birch's smart Should mark those hours again ; I'd
Side 55 - What ! must you go ? next time I hope You'll give me longer measure ; Nay — I shall see you down the stairs — (With most uncommon pleasure...