Hood's Magazine and Comic Miscellany, Tom 2

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proprietor, 1844

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Strona 223 - Not to covet nor desire other men's goods; but to learn and labour truly to get. my own living, and to do my duty in that state of life into which it shall please God to call me.
Strona 46 - tis that you blow not: Mind, the shut pink mouth opens never! For while it pouts, her fingers wrestle, Twinkling the audacious leaves between, Till round they turn and down they nestle — Is not the dear mark still to be seen? VI. Where I find her not, beauties vanish; Whither I follow her, beauties flee; Is there no method to tell her in Spanish June's twice June since she breathed it with me?
Strona 419 - A spade ! a rake ! a hoe ! A pickaxe, or a bill ! A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow, A flail, or what ye will...
Strona 421 - No parish money, or loaf, No pauper badges for me, — A son of the soil by right of toil Entitled to my fee. No alms I ask, give me my task ; Here are the arm, the leg, The strength, the sinews of a man, To work, and not to beg.
Strona 45 - This flower she stopped at, finger on lip, Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim; Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, Its soft meandering Spanish name: What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep, or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake.
Strona 299 - Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression, And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft, And burning blushes, though for no transgression, Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left...
Strona 45 - s the garden she walked across. Arm in my arm, such a short while since: Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss Hinders the hinges and makes them wince ! She must have reached this shrub ere she turned. As back with that murmur the wicket swung ; For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned. To feed and forget it the leaves among.
Strona 85 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows, While, proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway. That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Strona 292 - I hear the trade of kidnapping is of much request in this city. They can discharge a felon or a traitor, provided they will go to Mr. Alderman's plantation at the West Indies.
Strona 238 - If what shone afar so grand, Turn to nothing in thy hand, On, again — the virtue lies In the struggle, not the prize...

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