I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim, Dick, it's your daddy, dying; you've got to listen to him! Good for a fortnight, am I? The doctor told you? He lied....
I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim, Dick, it's your daddy, dying; you've got to listen to him! Good for a fortnight, am I? The doctor told you? He lied....
Argument. The Indian Government being minded to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a Committee to inquire into it; and saw that it was good.
With us there rade a Maister-Cook that came From the Rochelle which is neere Angouleme. Littel hee was, but rounder than a topp, And his small berd hadde dipped in manie a soppe,...
The men that fought at Minden, they was rookies in their time, So was them that fought at Waterloo! All the 'ole command, yuss, from Minden to Maiwand,...
King Solomon drew merchantmen, Because of his desire For peacocks, apes, and ivory, From Tarshish unto Tyre, With cedars out of Lebanon Which Hiram rafted down; But we be only sailormen...
Beneath the deep veranda's shade, When bats begin to fly, I sit me down and watch, alas! Another evening die. Blood-red behind the sere ferash She rises through the haze. Sainted Diana! can that be...
You mustn't groom an Arab with a file. You hadn't ought to tension-spring a mule. You couldn't push a brumby fifty mile And drop him in a boiler-shed to cool. I'll sling you through six counties in a day....
One moment past our bodies cast No shadow on the plain; Now clear and black they stride our track, And we run home again. In morning-hush, each rock and bush Stands hard, and high, and raw:...
There was Rundle, Station Master, An' Beazeley of the Rail, An' 'Ackman, Commissariat, An' Donkin' o' the Jail; An' Blake, Conductor-Sargent, Our Master twice was 'e,...
When the earth was sick and the skies were grey, And the woods were rotted with rain, The Dead Man rode through the autumn day To visit his love again.
In the name of the Empress of India, make way, O Lords of the Jungle, wherever you roam. The woods are astir at the close of the day, We exiles are waiting for letters from Home....
Valour and Innocence Have latterly gone hence To certain death by certain shame attended. Envy, ah! even to tears! The fortune of their years Which, though so few, yet so divinely ended. ...
We were taken from the ore-bed and the mine, We were melted in the furnace and the pit, We were cast and wrought and hammered to design, We were cut and filed and tooled and gauged to fit....