Parodies of the Works of English & American Authors, Količina 1Reeves & Turner, 1884 Includes parodies of Tennyson, Longfellow, Bret Harte, Thomas Hood, Swinburne, Browning, Shakespeare, Milton, Poe, Shelley, Cowper, Coleridge, Herrick, Carroll, Lever, Lover, Burns, Scott, Goldsmith, Kingsley, Byron and many others. |
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Zadetki 1–5 od 40
Stran
... Hair of the Dead , 1875 " Take him up tendahly , Lift him with caah " 126 The Rink of Sighs , 1876 The Last Appeal for Place , 1878 " One more Unfortunate Author in debt , " 1883 128 Boots of Size ... THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM- The Fall ...
... Hair of the Dead , 1875 " Take him up tendahly , Lift him with caah " 126 The Rink of Sighs , 1876 The Last Appeal for Place , 1878 " One more Unfortunate Author in debt , " 1883 128 Boots of Size ... THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM- The Fall ...
Stran 3
... hair is crisp and curl'd , And somewhere there , unknown to public view , A mighty city lies , called Timbuctoo . The Natural History . There stalks the tiger , -there the lion roars , Who sometimes eats the luckless blackamoors ; All ...
... hair is crisp and curl'd , And somewhere there , unknown to public view , A mighty city lies , called Timbuctoo . The Natural History . There stalks the tiger , -there the lion roars , Who sometimes eats the luckless blackamoors ; All ...
Stran 5
... hair ? Wherefore , then , if thou dost love me , So to words of anger move me , Corking of this face of mine , Tricksy cousin Caroline ? Would she only say she'd love me , Winsome , tinsome , Caroline , Unto such excess ' twould move me ...
... hair ? Wherefore , then , if thou dost love me , So to words of anger move me , Corking of this face of mine , Tricksy cousin Caroline ? Would she only say she'd love me , Winsome , tinsome , Caroline , Unto such excess ' twould move me ...
Stran 13
... Hair - pinned on locks to show'r down to her knee , Donned the rose " fleshings " that she was to wear ; Then throwing on a shawl she waited there Till such time as they brought her palfrey , trapt In purple , blazoned with armorial ...
... Hair - pinned on locks to show'r down to her knee , Donned the rose " fleshings " that she was to wear ; Then throwing on a shawl she waited there Till such time as they brought her palfrey , trapt In purple , blazoned with armorial ...
Stran 16
... hair Auricomous , and bared her shining throat And shoulder ; on the carpet her small feet Shone lily - like , and on her rounded form , Between the shadows of the studio blinds , Shifted the cunning " high lights " as she moved . O ...
... hair Auricomous , and bared her shining throat And shoulder ; on the carpet her small feet Shone lily - like , and on her rounded form , Between the shadows of the studio blinds , Shifted the cunning " high lights " as she moved . O ...
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Parodies of the Works of English & American Authors, Količina 1 Walter Hamilton Predogled ni na voljo - 1967 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
A. C. Swinburne Alfred Tennyson Beware bill Boreana break Brigade brow call me early Captain Falcon cold cried curse dance dark dead dear Dray dream dreary drink Dyspepsia eyes face fair feel Filcher Fluffer Funny Folks Galah gone Hail to thee hair hand head hear heard heart hurried imitation Kottabos Lady Clara Laureate's light Locksley Hall London Longfellow look Lord maiden Metcalfe and Son morning mother never night o'er Ozokerit parody Peers play poem Poet Laureate Punch Queen rink round sang shout sigh Sir John Moore Six Hundred sleep smile Song Song of Hiawatha soul stood sweet talk tears tell There's things Thomas Hood thou thought thundered to-morrow Tobacco smoke town turned Twas Vere de Vere verses voice wake walk Wather weary Whilst wondered words
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 28 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Stran 165 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...
Stran 190 - But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring : And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Stran 105 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Stran 21 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might ; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Stran 190 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Stran 171 - They now to fight are gone, Armour on armour shone, Drum now to drum did groan, To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make, The very earth did shake, Trumpet to trumpet spake, Thunder to thunder.
Stran 124 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Stran 81 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!
Stran 90 - He did not feel the driver's whip, Nor the burning heat of day ; For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep, And his lifeless body lay A worn-out fetter, that the soul Had broken and thrown away ! THE GOOD PART, THAT SHALL NOT BE TAKEN AWAY.