Vers de Société |
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Page 81
... winter curl In such a spring - like way ? How can she lay her glasses down , And say she reads as well , When , through a double convex lens , She just makes out to spell ? MY AUNT . Her father , grandpapa ! forgive - 6 81 MY AUNT.
... winter curl In such a spring - like way ? How can she lay her glasses down , And say she reads as well , When , through a double convex lens , She just makes out to spell ? MY AUNT . Her father , grandpapa ! forgive - 6 81 MY AUNT.
Page 100
... glass , and drain it In memory of the dear old times . Welcome to wine , whate'er the seal is , And sit you down and say your grace With thankful heart , whate'er the meal is . -Here comes the smoking Bouillabaisse ! AT THE CHURCH GATE ...
... glass , and drain it In memory of the dear old times . Welcome to wine , whate'er the seal is , And sit you down and say your grace With thankful heart , whate'er the meal is . -Here comes the smoking Bouillabaisse ! AT THE CHURCH GATE ...
Page 210
... glasses ; Here let us sit . We landed here before . FRANK . Jack's undecided . Say , formose puer , Bent in a dream above the " water wan , " Shall we row higher , for the reeds are fewer There by the pollards , where you see the swan ...
... glasses ; Here let us sit . We landed here before . FRANK . Jack's undecided . Say , formose puer , Bent in a dream above the " water wan , " Shall we row higher , for the reeds are fewer There by the pollards , where you see the swan ...
Page 252
... glass which I fill to wife , children , and friends . HON . WILLIAM R. SPENCER . TO LADY ANNE HAMILTON . OO late I stayed ! forgive the crime , — T00 Unheeded flew the hours ; How noiseless falls the foot of Time That only treads on ...
... glass which I fill to wife , children , and friends . HON . WILLIAM R. SPENCER . TO LADY ANNE HAMILTON . OO late I stayed ! forgive the crime , — T00 Unheeded flew the hours ; How noiseless falls the foot of Time That only treads on ...
Page 260
... glass in which I trace My absent Fanny's loveliness . Her heavenly eyes above me shine , The rose reflects her modest blush , She breathes in every eglantine , She sings in every warbling thrush . That her dear form alone I see Need not ...
... glass in which I trace My absent Fanny's loveliness . Her heavenly eyes above me shine , The rose reflects her modest blush , She breathes in every eglantine , She sings in every warbling thrush . That her dear form alone I see Need not ...
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Common terms and phrases
ALFRED TENNYSON ANGORA CAT Araminta AUTUMN IDYL beauty beneath bird bliss blue bosom Bouillabaisse BRAZEN HEAD bright Burnham-beeches cane-bottom'd chair cheek Christmas in Town CLAUDE TILLIER COLERAINE dance dear Dorothy dreams fair To fill fill my glass flower FRANK friends GARDEN IDYL girl glove glow good-night hair hand happy hear heart HENRY LUTTRELL IRISH EYES kiss lady laugh LAWRENCE LETTICE WHITE light Lilian lips LITTLE GERTY look MAHOGANY-TREE maid Miss morning MORTIMER COLLINS neighbor Nelly never o'er once PALL MALL perhaps pleasant pleasure poet poor pretty reason fair rhyme rose ROSE SONG round scarce sigh Sing heigh-ho smile soft song soul SPECTATOR AB EXTRA spends his Christmas sweet talk tears tell tender thee There's think's a reason THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY thou thought tree TU QUOQUE Twas vers de société vex'd wife wind youth
Popular passages
Page 76 - I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
Page 285 - Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy lips, the smile of truth. Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; And that smile, like sunshine, dart Into many a sunless heart, For a smile of God thou art.
Page 255 - A month or more hath she been dead, Yet cannot I by force be led To think upon the wormy bed And her together. A springy motion in her gait, A rising step, did indicate Of pride and joy no common rate That flush'd her spirit: I know not by what name beside I shall it call: if 'twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied She did inherit.
Page 100 - Ah me! how quick the days are flitting! I mind me of a time that's gone, When here I'd sit, .as now I'm sitting, In this same place — but not alone. A fair young form was nestled near me, A dear, dear face looked fondly up, And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me — There's no one now to share my cup.
Page 72 - ... call my own; — And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten; — If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three. Amen ! I always thought cold victual nice; — My choice would be vanilla-ice.
Page 9 - Our love was like most other loves, — A little glow, a little shiver, A rosebud and a pair of gloves, And "Fly Not Yet," upon the river; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted; A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows, — and then we parted.
Page 77 - But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh.
Page 74 - Turner, and no more. (A landscape, foreground golden dirt, The sunshine painted with a squirt). Of books but few — some fifty score For daily use, and bound for wear; The rest upon an upper floor; Some little luxury there Of red morocco's gilded gleam, And vellum rich as country cream.
Page 111 - Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom; Night-birds are we; Here we carouse, Singing, like them, Perched round the stem Of the jolly old tree. Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit; Laughter and wit Flashing so free. Life is but short— When we are gone, Let them sing on, Round the old tree.
Page 81 - MY AUNT. MY aunt ! my dear unmarried aunt ! Long years have o'er her flown ; Yet still she strains the aching clasp That binds her virgin zone ; I know it hurts her, — though she looks As cheerful as she can ; Her waist is ampler than her life, For life is but a span.