London LyricsK. Paul, 1878 - 199 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
beauty bells beneath betimes better bird bliss bloom Blossom Boodle's boughs Bramble-Rise Broadoak call'd charming cheek child clad Cockaigne curls dance darling dearest Death delightful divine dreams eyes face fancy Fester's flowers fond garden gave gaze Geraldine girls glad golden grace grave hair happy Hatfield Broadoak heart here's your letter Invitation to Rome James's Street kiss'd Lady laugh LINA OSWALD lips Love restore Mabel maid maiden Mamma mirth Miss Muff Neighbour Rose never Nice Correspondent o'er Old Muff once Pall Mall Paternoster Square Piccadilly pleasant poet poor POSTUMUS praise pretty Puss Reply rhyme ringlets Robin Burns Rotten Row saltarello sing smile song soon sorrow soul spell sprite sweet tears tempora mutantur tender thee There's thou thought Tree Tunbridge Vanity Fair verse vex'd weep whisper wish wistful wonder words extinguish yore young
Pasajes populares
Página 164 - Marquise , si mon visage A quelques traits un peu vieux , Souvenez-vous qu'à mon âge Vous ne vaudrez guère mieux. . \ . Le temps aux plus belles choses Se plaît à faire un affront , Et saura faner vos rosés Comme il a ridé mon front.
Página 138 - Fox, And Selwyn's ghastly funning. The dear old Street of clubs and cribs, As north and south it stretches, Still seems to smack of Rolliad squibs, And Gillray's fiercer sketches; The quaint old dress, the grand old style, The mots, the racy stories; The wine, the dice, the wit, the bile — The hate of Whigs and Tories.
Página 165 - De ces ravages du temps. Vous en avez qu'on adore, Mais ceux que vous méprisez Pourraient bien durer encore Quand ceux-là seront usés. Ils pourront sauver la gloire Des yeux qui me semblent doux, Et dans mille ans faire croire Ce qu'il me plaira de vous.
Página 145 - I'm not sorry, too, That I'm pretty, because 'tis a pleasure, My darling, to you! Your whim is for frolic and fashion, Your taste is for letters and art; — This rhyme is the commonplace passion That glows in a fond woman's heart: Lay it by in some sacred deposit For relics — we all have a few! Love, some day they'll print it because it Was written to You.
Página 170 - The tone should not be pitched high ; it should be idiomatic, and rather in the conversational key ; the rhythm should be crisp and sparkling, and the rhyme frequent and never forced, while the entire poem should be marked by tasteful moderation, high finish, and completeness : for, however trivial the subject-matter may be, indeed rather in proportion to its triviality, subordination to the rules of composition and perfection of execution should be strictly enforced.
Página 64 - The bells are ringing. As is meet, White favours fascinate the street, Sweet faces greet me, rueful-sweet 'Twixt tears and laughter : They crowd the door to see her go — The bliss of one brings many woe — Oh ! kiss the bride, and I will throw The old shoe after.
Página 73 - That good-for-nothing Time Has a confidence sublime ! When I first Saw this Lady, in my youth, Her winters had, forsooth, Done their worst. Her locks, as white as snow, Once shamed the swarthy crow By-and-by That fowl's avenging sprite • Set his cruel foot for spite Near her eye. Her rounded form was lean. And her silk was bombazine; Well I wot With her needles would she sit, And for hours would she knit, — Ah perishable clay ! Her charms had dropt away One by one : But if she heaved a sigh With...
Página 104 - One printed near the tide, 0, how hard he would have tried For the two ! For Gerry's debonair, And innocent, and fair As a rose ; She's an angel in a frock, With a fascinating cock To her nose.
Página 152 - A RHYME OF ONE. You sleep upon your mother's breast, Your race begun, A welcome, long a wish'd-for guest, Whose age is One. A baby-boy, you wonder why You cannot run ; You try to talk — how hard you try ! — You're only One. Ere long you won't be such a dunce ; You'll eat your bun, And fly your kite, like folk, who once Were only One. You'll rhyme, and woo, and fight, and joke, Perhaps you'll pun ! Such feats are never done by folk Before they're One.
Página 74 - ... bombazine; Well I wot With her needles would she sit, And for hours would she knit, — Would she not? Ah perishable clay! Her charms had dropt away One by one; But if she heaved a sigh With a burthen, it was, "Thy Will be done.