|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
Tell me, perverse young year! Why is the moon so drear ?
Is there no flower to twine ? Away, thou churl, away ! 'Tis Rose's natal day,
Reserve thy frowns for mine.
W. S. Landor.
I've lost my portmanteau :
I pity your grief. All my sermons are in it:
I pity the thief.
The law allows one husband to one wife, But wives will seldom brook this straightened life; They must have two : besides her Jack each Jill, In spite of law and gospel, has her Will.
THE TWO HARVEYS.
Two Harveys had a mutual wish
To please in different stationsó The one invented " sauce for fish,"
The other " Meditations." Each had his pungent power applied
To aid the dead and dying : That gave relish to the sole when fried,
This saved the soul from frying.
A FISHING EXPEDITION.
One morning when Spring was in her teensó
A morn to a poet's wishingó All tinted in delicate pinks and greens,
Miss Bessie and I went fishing.