Jokeby, a Burlesque on Rokeby: A Poem, in Six CantosT. Tegg, 1813 - 224 pagina's |
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Jokeby, a Burlesque on Rokeby: A Poem, in Six Cantos John Roby,James Kirke Paulding Volledige weergave - 1813 |
Jokeby, a Burlesque on Rokeby: A Poem, in Six Cantos John Roby,James Kirke Paulding Volledige weergave - 1813 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
appear'd Bernard blows bold Botany Bay brave cane cellar Clerkenwell comrades cou'd crack crew cried curricle Cymon Dick Dicky Dicky's dirty display'd door dread fair fear fellow Fetch fiddle Field-Lane fierce fist gang gave Giles's grannam hast head hear heard heart hell Hockley-in-the-hole iron crows Jack Ketch Jemmy Jemmy's join'd Jokeby Jokeby's daughter Kate kick King of Beggars Kitty's knew lady lass laudanum look look'd Maddox maid merry Miss Kitty mounting blood ne'er never night nose o'er O'Rourke pass'd Phelim O'Neale Phillis phiz poor pride of Dyott-Street prov'd Queen Mab resolv'd rogue Roughhead round Scarce seem'd shalt shillelagh shou'd snug song soon Spriggins stone stopp'd sweet tell thee thou thought thro tongue took turn'd Twas vex'd voice walk'd watchmen ween wicked William wish'd wou'd Young Terence
Populaire passages
Pagina 221 - The tear, down childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dewdrop on the rose ; When next the summer breeze comes by And waves the bush, the flower is dry.
Pagina 215 - Philtis, when the curfew does sound, Appear both by devils encircled around, While piece-meal her flesh does decay. 17. They feast on the bodies of new-mangled babes, With pleasure they drink up their gore ; Their chief on the wainscot this motto engraves, May she be destroyed who as Pbillis behaves, And none her just fate e'er deplore.
Pagina 86 - I'd rather with my Cymon stray, Than live in country seat." If, fair, thou wou'dst for me agree, To leave this house and place, Thou first must guess what boys are we, Who sweet St.
Pagina 88 - Lady, a shameful life I lead, A shameful death I'll die; The man who labours hard for bread, Were better spouse than I. And when I meet my comrades rare, In places distant far...
Pagina 88 - I'll die; The man who labours hard for bread, Were better spouse than I. And when I meet my comrades rare, In places distant far ; We all forget what once we were, Nor think on what we are.