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Showing: 31-40 results of 897

There was an Old Man with a nose,Who said, "If you choose to supposeThat my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong!"That remarkable Man with a nose. There was a Young Person of Smyrna,Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;But she seized on the Cat, and said, "Granny, burn that!You incongruous Old Woman of Smyrna!" There was an Old Man on a hill,Who seldom, if ever, stood still;He ran up and down in his Grandmother's gown,Which adorned... more...

1. WILLKOMMEN UND ABSCHIED Es schlug mein Herz, geschwind zu Pferde!Es war getan, fast eh' gedacht;Der Abend wiegte schon die Erde,Und an den Bergen hing die Nacht;Schon stand im Nebelkleid die Eiche, 5Ein aufgetürmter Riese, da,Wo Finsternis aus dem GesträucheMit hundert schwarzen Augen sah. Der Mond von einem WolkenhügelSah kläglich aus dem Duft hervor; 10Die Winde schwangen leise Flügel,Umsausten schauerlich mein... more...

A APPLE PIE By KATE GREENAWAY London FREDERICK WARNE & Ltd. & New York Printed in Great Britain by W & J Mackay Limited, Chatham from original woodblock designs engraved in 1886    ...

TO OUR MOTHERS Ours the Great Adventure, Yours the pain to bear, Ours the golden service stripes, Yours the marks of care. If all the Great Adventure The old Earth ever knew, Was ours and in this little book 'Twould still belong to you! These Sketches were made during a year's service as a camion driver with the French army in the Chemin-des-Dames sector and a year's service with the A.E.F. as an infantry private on special... more...

I PRELUDE: THE TROOPS Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloomShudders to drizzling daybreak that revealsDisconsolate men who stamp their sodden bootsAnd turn dulled, sunken faces to the skyHaggard and hopeless. They, who have beaten downThe stale despair of night, must now renewTheir desolation in the truce of dawn,Murdering the livid hours that grope for peace. Yet these, who cling to life with stubborn hands,Can grin through storms of... more...


INTRODUCTION The pieces reproduced in this little volume are now beginning to bid for notice from their third century of readers. At the time they were written, although Johnson had already done enough miscellaneous literary work to fill several substantial volumes, his name, far from identifying an "Age", was virtually unknown to the general public. The Vanity of Human Wishes was the first of his writings to bear his name on its face. There... more...

Since the publication of Edward Fitzgerald's classic translation of the Rubaiyat in 1851 - or rather since its general popularity several years later - poets minor and major have been rendering the sincerest form of flattery to the genius of the Irishman who brought Persia into the best regulated families. Unfortunately there was only one Omar and there were scores of imitators who, in order to make the Astronomer go round, were obliged to draw... more...

PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three."By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,And I am next of kin;The guests are met, the feast is set:May'st hear the merry din."He holds him with his skinny hand,"There was a ship," quoth he."Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"Eftsoons his hand dropt he.He holds him with his glittering eye—The... more...

Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light. Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable loneliness? Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace? Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this world into sweetness, sweeping aside all... more...

INDEX OF THE FIRST LINES Ah, these jasminesAh, who was it coloured that little frockBless this little heartChild, how happy you are sitting in the dustCome and hire meDay by day I float my paper boatsI am small because I am a little childIf baby only wanted to, he could flyIf I were only a little puppyIf people came to know where my king's palace isI long to go over thereImagine, motherI only said, "When in the evening"I paced aloneIt is time... more...