 I've something to say, — Bill Jones is as good as his word. " ' He never leaves me day nor night ! But haunts me, haunts me still ! By the midnight lamp I see the sprite, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam shows me Bill. " ' At...  Romantic Tales - Side 100av Matthew Gregory Lewis - 1808Uten tilgangsbegrensning - Om denne boken
 | 1822 - 430 sider
...midnight lamp 1 see the sprigbt, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sun-beam shews me BUI. At meals his pale lips speak the grace, His cold hand gives the wine; At ev'ry hour, in ev'ry place, To which ever side I turn my face, Bills eyes are nVd on mine. 350 THE... | |
 | 1823 - 442 sider
...the midnight lamp I see the spricht, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sun-beam shews me Bill. At meals his pale lips speak the grace, His cold hand gives the wine; At ev'ry hour, in ev'ry place, To which ever side I turn my face, Bills eyes are hVd on mine. , Now, lads,... | |
 | 1826 - 654 sider
...never leaves me day nor night ! But haunts me, haunts me still ! By the midnight lamp 1 see the sprite, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam...my face, Bill's eyes are fixed on mine !" " ' Now, lads, my resolution's jnade, One means will set me free, And Bill's pursuit for ever evade — He comes... | |
 | 1837 - 456 sider
...never leaves me day nor night ! But haunts me, haunts me still ! By the midnight lamp I see the sprite, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam...my face, Bill's eyes are fixed on mine ! " ' Now, lads, my resolution's made, One means will set me free, And Bill's pursuit for ever evade — He comes... | |
 | 1853 - 1074 sider
...midnight lamp I see the spright. And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam shows me BUI At meals, his pale lips speak the grace, His cold hand gives me wine ; At every hour, in every place, To whatever side I turn my face, BUl's eyes are nx'd on mine.... | |
 | Penny readings - 1866 - 264 sider
...leaves me day nor night, He haunts me — haunts me still ; By the midnight lamp I see the sprite, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam...his pale lips speak the grace, His cold hand gives me wine : At every hour, in every place, To whatever side I turn my face, Bill's eyes are fixed on... | |
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