The Oriflamme, Količina 1

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Press of Inquirer Printing Company, 1883
 

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Stran 67 - Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not Chaos is come again.
Stran 67 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Stran 69 - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night...
Stran 69 - Gone to his death-bed, He never will come again. His beard was white as snow, All flaxen was his poll : He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan : God ha' mercy on his soul ! And of all Christian souls, I pray God.
Stran 67 - More, more, I prithee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
Stran 70 - twas nox most opportuna To catch a possum or a coona ; For nix was scattered o'er this mundus, A shallow nix, et non profundus. On sic a nox with canis unus, Two boys went out to hunt for coonus. Unis canis, duo puer, Nunquam braver, nunquam truer, Quam hoc trio unquam fuit, If there was I never knew it. The corpus of this bonus canis, Was full as long as octo span is, But brevior legs had canis never Quam had hic dog ; et bonus clever Some used to say, in stultum jocum, Quod a field was too small...
Stran 83 - Holbrook's First Latin Lessons, 50 Smith's Studies in English Literature, . . . 1.20 Schuyler's Psychology, ...... 1.40 Eclectic Question Book or New Examiner, . . .50 McGUFFEY'S REVISED READERS, SPELLER and CHARTS. RAY'S NEW ARITHMETICS AND ALGEBRAS. HARVEY'S REVISED GRAMMARS.
Stran 67 - A man who could make so vile a pun would not scruple to pick a pocket.
Stran 70 - As his powers non longuis tarry, Possum potest non pugnare, On the nix his corpus lieth, Down to Hades spirit flieth, Joyful pueri, canis bonus, Think him dead as any stonus. Now they seek their pater's domo, Feeling proud as any homo, Knowing, certe, they will blossom Into heroes, when with possum They arrive, narrabunt story, Plenus blood et plenior glory.
Stran 67 - Chorus. Let the toast pass, Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass. Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize ! Now to the maid who has none, sir : Here's to the girl with a pair...

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