My jolly fat host with your face a… Come, open the door to us, let us… A score of stout fellows who think… If they toast till they’re hoarse,… Hoofed it amain
How did the party go in Portman S… I cannot tell you; Juliet was not… And how did Lady Gaster’s party g… Juliet was next me and I do not k…
G stands for Gnu, whose weapon of… Are long, sharp, curling horns, an… To these he adds a name so short a… That even hardy Boers pronounce i… How often on a bright autumnal day
Who ran away from his Nurse and w… There was a Boy whose name was Ji… His Friends were very good to him… They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and… And slices of delicious Ham,
Who caroused in the Dirt and was… His Uncle came upon Franklin Hyd… Carousing in the Dirt. He Shook him hard from Side to S… And Hit him till it Hurt,
I call you bad, my little child, Upon the title page, Because a manner rude and wild Is common at your age. The Moral of this priceless work
Lump says that Caliban’s of gutte… And Caliban says Lump’s a fool in… And Caliban and Lump and I are a…
Wherever the Catholic sun doth sh… There’s always laughter and good… At least I’ve always found it s… Benedicamus Domino!
Some years ago you heard me sing My doubts on Alexander Byng. His sister Sarah now inspires My jaded Muse, my failing fires. Of Sarah Byng the tale is told
Child! do not throw this book abou… Refrain from the unholy pleasure Of cutting all the pictures out! Preserve it as your chiefest treas… Child, have you never heard it sai…
The Scorpion is as black as soot, He dearly loves to bite; He is a most unpleasant brute To find in bed at night.
As a friend to the children commen… You will find it exactly the thing… It will carry and fetch, you can r… Or lead it about with a string. The Tartar who dwells on the plai…
When people call this beast to min… They marvel more and more At such a little tail behind, So large a trunk before.
The parents of the learned child (His father and his mother) Were utterly aghast to note The facts he would at random quote On creatures curious, rare, and wi…
I will not try the reach again, I will not set my sail alone, To moor a boat bereft of men At Yarnton’s tiny docks of stone. But I will sit beside the fire,
