The Comic Annual, Том 3Hurst, Chance, and Company, 1832 |
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altho Anastasia Barret beautiful BLACK MONDAY BLANK VERSE blue Bonner boys Byron called CHARLES TILT coach Cobham cocks collection coloured COMIC ANNUAL COPLEY FIELDING course Court David's Cow dear Dewint engraved eyes fish FLEET STREET fond friends going to Bombay grand hand hang hear honour horses HUGGINS Illustrated India Proofs Indian John light Lincolnshire Little Britain look Lord LORD BYRON maid Mary Master White May'r Middlefen Miss Monday morocco Mount Blank neatly half-bound never night nine Oh Peace Old Bailey OMNIUM GATHERUM painted Paradise Lost Peggy plain Plates poetry Pompey poor Price 18 Prout PUBLISHED BY CHARLES PUGSLEY racter RAKE'S PROGRESS Roberts Robson short shuting Sister Anne solitude SOMERSET HOUSE STANFIELD Summut of Mount there's thing THOMAS HOOD thou thought turn Undying verry verse volume walk Westall wich window
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Сторінка 127 - He came, and knelt with all his fat. And made an offer plump. Said she, my taste will never learn To like so huge a man, So I must beg you will come here As little as you can.
Сторінка 57 - EVEN is come ; and from the dark Park, hark, The signal of the setting sun — one gun ! And six is sounding from the chime, prime time To go and see the Drury-Lane Dane slain, — Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out, — Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, Denying to his frantic clutch much touch ; — Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride Four horses as no other man can span ; Or in the small Olympic Pit, sit split Laughing at Liston, while you quiz his phiz.
Сторінка 58 - B 3, flee, And while they're going, whisper low, "No go!" Now puss, while folks are in their beds, treads leads, And sleepers waking grumble, " Drat that cat ! " Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will. Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise In childish dreams, and with a roar gore poor Georgy, or Charley, or Billy, willy-nilly; But nursemaid in a nightmare rest, chest-pressed, Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games, And that she hears...
Сторінка 58 - To go and see the Drury-Lane Dane slain, — Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out, — Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, Denying to his frantic clutch much touch ; — ; Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride Four horses as no other man can span ; Or in the small Olympic Pit, sit split Laughing at Listen, while you quiz his phiz. Anon Night comes, and with her wings brings things Such as, with his poetic tongue, Young sung ; The gas up-blazes with its bright white light.
Сторінка 128 - Her heart withstood the dint ; Though he had carried sixteen stone He could not move a flint. Worn out, at last he made a vow To break his being's link ; For he was so reduced in size At nothing he could shrink. Now some will talk in water's praise, And waste a deal of breath, But John, tho' he drank nothing else — He drank himself to death.
Сторінка 159 - teaching the young idea how to shoot ; " of educating in the principles of the Established Church, and bestowing the strictest attention to morals.
Сторінка 58 - Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs. Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash, Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep, But frightened by Policeman B 3, flee, And while they're going, whisper low, "No go!" Now puss, while folks are in their beds, treads leads. And sleepers waking, grumble — " Drat that cat ! " Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will.