What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
appeared asked better bottles brother called church close colour comes course door Dora early English eyes face fair feeling followed Gerard girl give given half hand happy head heard heart Hilda hill hope hour interest Italy John keep kind knew known lady land late least leave less light live London look Lord matter means meet mind Miss morning natural never night once passed perhaps play poor present reach remain rest round seemed seen side soon sound speak standing strong sure taken tell thing thought tion told took town turned voice walk whilst whole wife wine wish young
Page 237 - You are old, Father William,' the young man said, 'And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head - Do you think, at your age, it is right?' 'In my youth,' Father William replied to his son, 'I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.
Page 237 - And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
Page 237 - You are old,' said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak - Pray how did you manage to do it?
Page 240 - Home they brought her sailor son, Grown a man across the sea, Tall and broad and black of beard, And hoarse of voice as man may be. Hand to shake and mouth to kiss, Both he offered ere he spoke ; But she said — " What man is this Comes to play a sorry joke? " Then they praised him — call'd him " smart," " Tightest lad that ever stept ; " But her son she did not know, And she neither smiled nor wept.
Page 200 - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Page 559 - of the waiting-rooms of the Opera House, was seated a woman of fashionable appearance, still beautiful, but not " in the bloom of beauty's pride ; " she was not noticed, except by the eye of pity.
Page 238 - I'm bad at riddles; But I know where little girls are sent For telling taradiddles. "Now, if you don't reform," said I, "You'll never go to heaven." But all in vain; each time I try, That little idiot makes reply, "I ain't had more nor seven!" POSTSCRIPT: To borrow Wordsworth's name was wrong, Or slightly misapplied ; And so I'd better call my song "Lines after Ache-inside.
Page 239 - My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mistranslated.