The Little Book of Laughter

Frances Rice
Reilly & Britton Company, 1910 - 62 頁


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第 37 頁 - Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a : A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
第 41 頁 - And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help — for It As impotently moves as you or I.
第 8 頁 - Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
第 14 頁 - RIDICULOUS. I wrote some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die ; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came j How kind it was of him, To mind a slender man like me, He of the mighty limb !
第 49 頁 - Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry. Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rosebuds filled with snow, Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy Till "Cherry-ripe
第 12 頁 - A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS. WHEN Spring comes laughing By vale and hill, By wind-flower walking And daffodil, — Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell, — And my Love's eyes. When comes the Summer, Full-leaved and strong, And gay birds gossip The orchard long, — Sing hid, sweet honey That no bee sips ; Sing red, red roses,— And my Love's lips. When Autumn scatters The leaves again, And piled sheaves bury The broad-wheeled wain,— Sing flutes of harvest Where men...
第 60 頁 - IN our hearts is the Great One of Avon Engraven, And we climb the cold summits once built on By Milton. But at times not the air that is rarest Is fairest, And we long in the valley to follow Apollo. Then we drop from the heights atmospheric To Herrick, Or we pour the Greek honey, grown blander, Of Landor ; Or our cosiest nook in the shade is Where Praed is, Or we toss the light bells of the mocker With Locker. Oh, the song where not one of the Graces Tight-laces, — Where we woo the sweet Muses...
第 49 頁 - There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe
第 45 頁 - d throw with leaves for hours And draw for days with flowers, Till day like night were shady And night were bright like day ; If you were April's lady, And I were lord in May. If you were queen of pleasure, And I were king of pain...
第 43 頁 - The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales And younger hearings are quite ravished ; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.