The Library of Wit and Humor, Prose and Poetry: Selected from the Literature of All Times and Nations, Том 3

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Ainsworth Rand Spofford, Rufus Edmonds Shapley
Gebbie Publishing Company, Limited, 1884

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Страница 190 - An ambassador is an honest man, sent to lie abroad for the good of his country.
Страница 370 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
Страница 361 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood : Though I go bare, take ye no care ; I nothing am a-cold : I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old.
Страница 367 - Gul in her bloom; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute: Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In color though varied, in beauty may vie...
Страница 98 - An expedient was therefore offered, that since words are only names for things, it would be more convenient for all men to carry about them such things as were necessary to express the particular business they are to discourse on.
Страница 82 - To Dr. Jonathan Swift, the most agreeable companion, the truest friend, and the -greatest genius of his age.
Страница 32 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious: The souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy: As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure; Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,...
Страница 297 - Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgra.be. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought — So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey...
Страница 32 - Nick, in shape o' beast ; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge : He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a1 did dirl.
Страница 280 - Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herself about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the case) it is a mere cover for hidden fire — a mere substitute for some endearing word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of correspondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick with a view to his contemplated desertion, and which I am not in a condition to explain?

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