I thought that silence would be best, But I a call have heard, And, Victor, after all the rest, I well might say a word: The day and work is nearly done, And ours the victory,...
Let us sing in tear-choked numbers how the Duke of Clarence went, Just to make a royal sorrow rather more pre-eminent. Ladies sighed and sobbed and drivelled, toadies spoke with bated breath,...
O my prow vas plack mit curses, Ven I dries to write dose verses; Ven I dries to write dot boem, Dot de best was effer been. All in vain my peer I guzzles, But I gannod solve dot broblem,...
In the parlour of the shanty where the lives have all gone wrong, When a singer or reciter gives a story or a song, Where the poet's heart is speaking to their hearts in every line,...
In Windsor Terrace, number four, I've taken my abode, A little crescent from the street, A bight from City Road; And, hard up and in exile, I To many fancies yield; For it was here Micawber lived...