‘Quand vous serez bien vielle, le… Assise aupres du feu devisant et f… Direz, chantant mes vers en vous e… Ronsard m’a celebre du temps que j… Some winter night, shut snugly in

And thou wert once a maiden fair, A blushing virgin warm and young: With myrtles wreathed in golden ha… And glossy brow that knew no care— Upon a bridegroom’s arm you hung.

Winter and summer, night and morn, I languish at this table dark; My office window has a corn– er looks into St. James’s Park. I hear the foot-guards’ bugle-horn…

With ganial foire Thransfuse me loyre, Ye sacred nympths of Pindus, The whoile I sing That wondthrous thing,

‘I am Miss Catherine’s book,' the… ‘I’ve lain among your tomes these… I’m tired of their old coats and y… ‘Quick, Pen! and write a line wit… Come! draw me off a funny little f…

[The Poet describes the city and… A thousand years ago, or more, A city filled with burghers stout, And girt with ramparts round about… Stood on the rocky Dnieper shore.

When the moonlight’s on the mounta… And the gloom is on the glen, At the cross beside the fountain There is one will meet thee then. At the cross beside the fountain;

O will ye choose to hear the news, Bedad I cannot pass it o’er: I’ll tell you all about the Ball To the Naypaulase Ambassador. Begor! this fete all balls does ba…

Little KITTY LORIMER, Fair, and young, and witty, What has brought your ladyship Rambling to the City? All the Stags in Capel Court

Where the quivering lightning flin… His arrows from out the clouds, And the howling tempest sings And whistles among the shrouds, ’Tis pleasant, ’tis pleasant to ri…

The night was stormy and dark, The town was shut up in sleep: Only those were abroad who were ou… Or those who’d no beds to keep. I pass’d through the lonely street…

When moonlike ore the hazure seas In soft effulgence swells, When silver jews and balmy breaze Bend down the Lily’s bells; When calm and deap, the rosy sleep

You’ve all heard of Larry O’Tool… Of the beautiful town of Drumgool… He had but one eye, To ogle ye by— Oh, murther, but that was a jew’l!

Under the stone you behold, Buried, and coffined, and cold, Lieth Sir Wilfrid the Bold. Always he marched in advance, Warring in Flanders and France,

I was a timid little antelope; My home was in the rocks, the lone… I saw the hunters scouring on the… I lived among the rocks, the lonel… I was a-thirsty in the summer-heat…