A Collection of Miscellaneous Essays: By T. Mozeenauthor, 1762 - 298 sider |
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
A Collection of Miscellaneous Essays. by T. Mozeen Thomas Mozeen Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2018 |
A Collection of Miscellaneous Essays (Classic Reprint) Thomas Mozeen Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2018 |
A Collection of Miscellaneous Essays / By T. Mozeen Thomas Mozeen Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Afton againſt Altidore Amyntor anſwer'd BALLAD Ballen a Mona Bellmont Bellmour beſt blefs bleft Boys brave Briton jun Brow Captain Hardy cou'd Dafb Dafh dance dear Derry drink Dublin e'er e're Eyes fafe faid fair Fame Fellow fhall fhe's fhou'd fing firſt fome Fool foon French Friend ftand ftill fuch fure fweet George the Third give Harlequin Harriot hath Heart himſelf honeft Honour jolly Joys juft Kilternan King Lady Everbloom laugh Letty Lord Love Maid Mifs moft moſt Mufic muft muſt myſelf ne'er never Nymph o'er Paffion pleaſe Pleaſure Praiſe pray preſent Prieſt Reaſon RECIT reft Sadler's ſay ſee Servant ſhall ſhe Sifter sk sk sk Song Spruce ſtill Sung Swain Taſk thee theſe thofe thoſe thou Thouſand thro Weft Whilft whofe Whoſe wiſh World keep Holiday wou'd young yourſelf
Populære avsnitt
Side 36 - But soon, to his cost, he perceiv'd that no bounds, Could stop the pursuit of such staunch mettled hounds ; His policy here did not serve him a rush, Five couple of tartars were hard at his brush. To recover the shore then again was his drift, But, ere he could reach to the top of the clift, He found both of speed and of cunning a lack, Being way-laid and kill'd by the rest of the pack.
Side 31 - How little do the landsmen know Of what we sailors feel, When waves do mount, and winds do blow, But we have hearts of steel : No danger can affright us ; No enemy shall flout ; We'll make the Monsieurs right us, So, toss the can about.
Side 44 - Though not to thee or me. It is not in the monarch's crown, Though he'd give millions for't ; It dwells not in his Lordship's frown, Or waits on him to Court. It is not in a coach and six, It is not in a garter ; 'Tis not in love, or politics, But 'tis in Hodge the carter. A MODERN SAMSON. JACK, eating mitey cheese, did say, " Like Samson, I my thousands slay.
Side 32 - Whilst here at Deal we're lying, With our noble commodore, We'll spend our wages freely, boys, And then to sea for more. In peace we'll drink and sing, boys, In war we'll never fly. Here's a health to George our king, boys, And the royal family.
Side 33 - Tis of lads, and of horses, and dogs that ne'er tire, O'er stone walls and hedges, thro' dale, bog and briar, A pack of such hounds, and a set of such men, 'Tis a shrewd chance if ever you meet with again ; Had Nimrod the mighti'st of hunters been there, Foregad he had shook like an aspen for fear.
Side 59 - Were you full of complaints from the crown to the toe, A visit to Owen's will cure you of woe ; A buck of such spirits ye never did know, For, let what will happen, they're always in flow, When he touches up Ballen, &c. The joy of that fellow for me...
Side 36 - I'll leap over you, your blind gelding, and all !" La, la, la, &c. Each glass was adapted to freedom and sport, For party affairs were consigned to the court Thus we finished the rest of the day and the night, In gay flowing bumpers and social delight. Then, 'till the next meeting, bid farewell each brother ; For some they went one way, and some went another.
Side 174 - I'll devote my vows. Dull Cynic rules are fit for schools, Let those digest the food who can ; But love and wine shall still be mine Oh, let me laugh out all my span. No wounds of love e'er let me feel, But such as spring from eyes and shapes ; A curse on those that come by steel, I hate all blood but blood of grapes. Then fill up high the bowl, That I may drink and laugh at fools of sense ; What need we fear to want next year, 'Twill be all one a hundred hence.
Side 60 - Tis thither the lads of brisk mettle resort, For there they are sure that they'll never fall short. Of claret, and Ballen &c., The eighty-fourth bumper for me. The days in December are dirty and raw, But when we're at Owen's we care not a straw; We bury the trades of religion, and law, And the ice in our hearts, sure, we presently thaw With good claret and Ballen &c., The quick moving bottle for me. 30 i The tune 'Ballinamona' is in Burk Thumoth's Twelve English and Twelve Irish Airs (London, c.
Side 35 - Joe Debil, Hal Preston, kept leading by turns ; The earth it was open, yet he was so stout, Tho' he might have got in, still he chose to keep out ; To Malpas high hills was the way that he flew, At Dalkey's stone common we had him in view ; He drove on to Bullock, he slunk Glenageary, And so on to Monkstown, where Larry grew weary. Thro...