Rejected Addresses, Or, The New Theatrum PoetarumJ. Miller, 1812 - Počet stran: 127 |
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æther atoms beams beauty behold blaze bless bloom blow blue brick bright Brydges Street called chaise Committee Court Covent Garden cried dance diddle dome door Drury Lane Theatre Drury's edifice Emerald Isle evanescent eyes fair fear fire firemen flames gallery GEORGE BARNWELL Ghost Glory to Tomfoolery gunpowder gunpowder tea hand head heard Higginbottom hiss Holywell Street huzza Jack Jennings knife Ladies and Gentlemen Lady Elizabeth Mugg LADY MACBETH Lady Mugg Lemnos let us bound look Lord LUCRETIUS Luddites Macbeth Milwood Miss Drury Muggins Muses Nancy Lake ne'er never nought nymph o'er old Drury OMNES OTHELLO papa Pat Jennings Perchance plain Playhouse Punch's holiday rebuild roast Round let Samuel Hughes seem'd shout sing smile soon soul stage Surya sweet temple thee thro Tol de rol trowel Twas tweedle dee Veshnoo walls Whitbread Wyatt's Yamen
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Strana 52 - E'en Higginbottom now was posed, For sadder scene was ne'er disclosed ; Without, within, in hideous show, Devouring flames resistless glow, And blazing rafters downward go, And never halloo " Heads below !
Strana 14 - SATED with home, of wife, of children tired, The restless soul is driven abroad to roam ; Sated abroad, all seen, yet nought admired, The restless soul is driven to ramble home ; Sated with both, beneath new Drury's dome The fiend Ennui awhile consents to pine, There growls, and curses, like a deadly Gnome, Scorning to view fantastic Columbine, Viewing with scorn and hate the nonsense of the Nine, II.
Strana 8 - My father's walls are made of brick, But not so tall and not so thick As these ; and, goodness me ; My father's beams are made of wood, But never, never half so good As those that now I see.
Strana 18 - To him whose soul is with fruition fraught, The song of Braham is an Irish howl, Thinking is but an idle waste of thought, And nought is everything, and everything is nought.
Strana 18 - Tempi's grove, But pacing Grub-street on a jaded hack; What reams of foolscap, while your brains ye rack, Ye mar to make again ! for sure, ere long, Condemn'd to tread the bard's time-sanction'd track, Ye all shall join the bailiff-haunted throng, And reproduce, in rags, the rags ye blot in song. X. So fares the follower in the Muses...
Strana 32 - Tis mine to speak and yours to hear. Midnight, yet not a nose From Tower-hill to Piccadilly snored! Midnight, yet not a nose From Indra drew the essence of repose. See with what crimson fury, By Indra fann'd, the god of fire ascends the walls of Drury; The tops of houses, blue with lead, Bend beneath the landlord's tread; Master and 'prentice, serving man and lord. Nailor and tailor, Grazier and brazier, Thro" streets and alleys poured, All, all abroad to gaze, And wonder at the blaze.
Strana 54 - Yes, Higginbottom did aspire (His fireman's soul was all on fire) His brother chief to save ; But ah ! his reckless generous ire Served but to share his grave ! 'Mid blazing beams and scalding streams, Through fire and smoke he dauntless broke Where Muggins broke before. But sulphury stench and boiling drench Destroying sight o'erwhelmed him quite, He sunk to rise no more.
Strana 89 - Tis demonstration speaks — attend, and learn ! From floating elements in chaos hurl'd, Self-form'd of atoms, sprang the infant world : No great First Cause inspired the happy plot, But all was matter — and no matter what.
Strana 124 - OMNES. Round let us bound, for this is Punch's holiday, Glory to Tomfoolery, huzza ! huzza ! LADY MACBETH. / kill'd the king; my husband is a heavy dunce; He left the grooms unmassacred, then massacred the stud. One loves long gloves ; for mittens, like king's evidence, Let truth with the fingers...
Strana 50 - A bright ensanguin'd drain; Meux's new brewhouse shows the light, Rowland Hill's chapel, and the height Where patent shot they sell ; The Tennis Court, so fair and tall, Partakes the ray, with Surgeons...