Makarony Fables: Fables for Grown Gentlemen

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circulation amongst private subscribers only, 1897 - English poetry - 258 pages
 

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Page 20 - Imposing rogues, with looks demure, At Rome keep all the world in awe ; Wit is profane, learning impure, And reasoning against the Law ; Between two tapers and a book, Upon a dresser clean and neat, Behold a sacerdotal Cook, Cooking a dish of heavenly meat ! How fine he...
Page 69 - If you are treated ill and put on, 'Tis natural to make- a fuss ; To see it and not care a button, Is just as natural for us. Like people viewing, at a distance, Two persons thrown out of a casement, All we can do for your assistance, Is to afford you our amazement : — For an impartial looker-on In such disasters never chooses ; 'Tis neither Tom, nor Will, nor John, — 'Tis the phenomenon amuses...
Page 98 - Laughs when we overshoot the mark, Both at our fears and sanguine dreams. The present's all we have to heed, Futurity is like a current, Now smooth and pleasant as the Tweed, Now dreadful like a highland torrent. Tumbling with...
Page 103 - Fame must fly with wings of paper, Be you a Wolfe, a Howe, a Draper, Victor at Minden or at Canna, Or legislator great as he, That led the Jews through the Red Sea, And pamper'd them with quails and manna. Great bards great favours can...
Page 253 - Milton's delay, it is no word of my inventing, Lies in a point, If you can hit the joint, Between forbidding and confenting : Juft like the cream of which you have been told, Delicious, when 'tis not too cold. All fmall delays are right ; They make folks keen, Whether they mean To play or fight.
Page 20 - Wit is profane, learning impure, And reasoning against the Law; Between two tapers and a book, Upon a dresser clean and neat, Behold a sacerdotal Cook, Cooking a dish of heavenly meat! How fine he curtsies! Make your bow, Thump your breast soundly, beat your poll; Lo! he has toss'd up a Ragout, To fill the belly of your soul.
Page 115 - Why talk upon no other theme ? It is not love, it is not pique, That gives my whole difcourfe this caft ; 'Tis nature that delights to fpeak Eternally of dangers paft. Caroufing o'er the midnight bowl, The foldier never ceafing prates ; Shews every fear to every foul, And every hair-breadth 'fcape relates. Thus the poor...
Page 115 - Caught in the cruel school boy's toils, Struggling for life, at last, like me, Escapes, and leaves his feather'd spoils. His plumage soon resumes its gloss, His little heart soon waxes gay ; Nor falls, grown cautious from his loss, To artifice again a prey. Perhaps you think I only feign, I do but strive against the stream, Else why for ever in this strain, Why talk upon no other theme.
Page 19 - JN concert with the curfew bell, An Owl was chaunting vefpers in his cell ; Upon the outfide of the wall, A Black Bird, famous in that age, From a...
Page 146 - Close by a kitchen fire, a dog and cat, Each a famous politician, Were meditating as they sat, Plans and projects of ambition.

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