Dick's Recitations and Readings, 第 13 巻Dick & Fitzgerald, 1881 |
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... Death of King John . W. A. Peters ... Leigh Hunt . 5 .......... 74 Deserter , The .... ....... A . Matheson .. 58 Do , Re , Mi , Fa .... 22 Dream of Eugene Aram , The .. Duel , The .... ..Thomas Hood .. Thomas Hood .. ..167 ........ 150 ...
... Death of King John . W. A. Peters ... Leigh Hunt . 5 .......... 74 Deserter , The .... ....... A . Matheson .. 58 Do , Re , Mi , Fa .... 22 Dream of Eugene Aram , The .. Duel , The .... ..Thomas Hood .. Thomas Hood .. ..167 ........ 150 ...
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... death to venture within shot or call Of the Sioux with fleet ponies and fatal aim ; But that " Cowardly Jim " just quietly said , " If he wasn't intrudin ' on any one's right , " " He'd bring back the baby alive or dead . " That stirred ...
... death to venture within shot or call Of the Sioux with fleet ponies and fatal aim ; But that " Cowardly Jim " just quietly said , " If he wasn't intrudin ' on any one's right , " " He'd bring back the baby alive or dead . " That stirred ...
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... death of our old tabby puss ; She wears black stockings , ha ! ha ! what a pother , " ' Cause one old cat's in mourning for another ! " The child of nature - free from pride and pomp , And sure to please , though nothing but a romp ...
... death of our old tabby puss ; She wears black stockings , ha ! ha ! what a pother , " ' Cause one old cat's in mourning for another ! " The child of nature - free from pride and pomp , And sure to please , though nothing but a romp ...
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... death sends a supener fur him , even ef the ole feller waits seventy - five years fust . I got two par ove boots , an ' ole tangle - foot whisky enuf tu fill ' em . A HANDFUL OF GRASS . A letter from home , and lo ! within Is what I ...
... death sends a supener fur him , even ef the ole feller waits seventy - five years fust . I got two par ove boots , an ' ole tangle - foot whisky enuf tu fill ' em . A HANDFUL OF GRASS . A letter from home , and lo ! within Is what I ...
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... death we spoke in language plain , That no one will perplex ; But in these days one dosn't die- He " passes in his checks . " We praised the man of common sense ; His judgment's good , we said ; But now they say , " Well that old plum ...
... death we spoke in language plain , That no one will perplex ; But in these days one dosn't die- He " passes in his checks . " We praised the man of common sense ; His judgment's good , we said ; But now they say , " Well that old plum ...
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ain't ANON BILL MAGEE birds Blessed Bound in boards boys Brudder bull cloth back Comic cousin Sally Dilliard cried dead dear death Detroit Free Press Dialogues die Vaderland door dream eyes face feller flute girl Go slow hair hand head heard heart hole Humorous Irene JONES ketch kissed ligion live look Lord Mann million-all in gold Mistah Jacksen morning moshun mother never night nose o'er once paper covers polonaise poor Pryce Recitations Samantha Santa Claus sing sleep smile song soul Speech spider Spoopendyke stairs Story Sword of Bunker talk tell there's thing THOMAS HOOD Thou thought told took tures complete Twas Ulster County Uncle Joel Vake walked wife WITNESS woman word young
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86 ページ - Gave a lustre of midday to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
87 ページ - He was chubby and plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim,...
68 ページ - Maud Muller, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But, when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast — A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.
171 ページ - And peace went with them, one and all, And each calm pillow spread ; But Guilt was my grim chamberlain That lighted me to bed ; And drew my midnight curtains round, With fingers bloody red...
68 ページ - A wish, that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid, And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.
168 ページ - God ! could I so close my mind, And clasp it with a clasp ! " Then leaping on his feet upright, Some moody turns he took ; Now up the mead, then down the mead, And past a shady nook. And lo, he saw a little boy. That pored upon a book ! " My gentle lad, what is't you read ? Romance, or fairy fable ? Or is it some historic page, Of kings, and crowns unstable ? " The young boy gave an upward glance : " It is
168 ページ - Leaf after leaf he turned it o'er, Nor ever glanced aside — For the peace of his soul he read that book In the golden eventide; Much study had made him very lean, And pale, and leaden-eyed.
87 ページ - The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
68 ページ - I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have...
167 ページ - Like troutlets in a pool. Away they sped with gamesome minds And souls untouched by sin; To a level mead they came, and there They drave the wickets in: Pleasantly shone the setting sun Over the town of Lynn. Like sportive deer they coursed about, And shouted as they ran, Turning to mirth all things of earth As only boyhood can; But the usher sat remote from all, A melancholy man!