A Century of Parody and Imitation
Walter Jerrold, Robert Maynard Leonard
H. Milford, Oxford University Press, 1913 - 429 pages
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Andrew Lang Ballad bard beautiful bless blue bright brother brown Byron Byschope cheek Cleuch Coleridge Covent Garden cried curse damned dance dead Delia's Della Cruscans Devil doth dream Drury Lane Edinburgh Review eyes F. W. H. Myers fair fate fear fire flame GEORGE ELLIS give green gude hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Horace Smith Huggins imitation JEAN INGELOW JOHN HOOKHAM FRERE katt Lady living look Lord Lord Byron lyke Macbeth moon mother Muses never night niversity of Gottingen o'er parody Peter Bell poem poet Rejected Addresses rhyme round scho sing smile song soon soul Southey Street sweet Swinburne tell Tennyson theatre thee There's thine thing thou thought twas verse voice waggonere wase wind Woodlouse Wordsworth wrote young
Page 307 - You are old, father William" the young man said, " And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head — Do you think, at your age, it is right ? " "In my youth," father William replied to his son, " I feared it might injure the brain; But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.
Page 358 - Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I would rise to explain. Ah Sin was his name; And I shall not deny, In regard to the same, What that name might imply; But his smile it was pensive and childlike, As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye.
Page 177 - Is it a party in a parlour, Crammed just as they on earth were crammed, Some sipping punch — some sipping tea, But, as you by their faces see, All silent, and all damned ! Peter Bell, by W.
Page 306 - How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! "How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in, With gently smiling jaws!
Page 418 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set - but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Page 162 - There is a fever of the spirit, The brand of Cain's unresting doom, Which in the lone dark souls that bear it Glows like the lamp in Tullia's tomb : Unlike that lamp, its subtle fire Burns, blasts, consumes its cell, the heart, Till, one by one, hope, joy, desire, Like dreams of shadowy smoke depart. • When hope, love, life itself, are only Dust — spectral memories — dead and cold — The unfed fire burns bright and lonely, Like that undying lamp...
Page 262 - Fool, again the dream, the fancy ! but I know my words are wild, But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child.
Page 8 - Alike in ignorance, his reason such Whether he thinks too little or too much; Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still, by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all, Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled, The glory, jest, and riddle of the world...
Page 91 - PRENTICES TO DEATH, AND HID THEM IN THE COAL-HOLE. For her mind Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine Of the Orthyan goddess he bade flog The little Spartans ; such as erst chastised Our Milton, when at college.