O my own, my beautiful, my blue-eyed! To be young once more and bite my thumb At the world and all its cares with you, I’d Give no inconsiderable sum.
First Love; reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
Now the "rosy morn appearing" Floods with light the dazzled heaven; And the schoolboy groans on hearing That eternal clock strike seven:- Now the waggoner is driving Towards the fields his clattering wain; Now the bluebottle, reviving, Buzzes down his native pane.Charles Stuart Calverley
White is the wold, and ghostly The dank and leafless trees; And 'M's and 'N's are mostly Pronounced like 'B's and 'D's: 'Neath bleak sheds, ice-encrusted, The sheep stands, mute and stolid: And ducks find out, disgusted, That all the ponds are solid.Charles Stuart Calverley
I have a liking old For thee, though manifold Stories, I know, are told Not to thy credit; How one (or two at most) Drops make a cat a ghost Useless, except to roast Doctors have said it: How they who use fusees All grow by slow degrees Brainless as chimpanzees, Meagre as lizards; Go mad, and beat their wives; Plunge (after shocking lives) Razors and carving knives Into their gizzards.Charles Stuart Calverley
I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a Dun.Charles Stuart Calverley
I can not sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low; ’T is that I can’t remember how They go.Charles Stuart Calverley
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where, That wholly consisted of lines like these.Charles Stuart Calverley
’T was ever thus from childhood’s hour! My fondest hopes would not decay: I never loved a tree or flower Which was the first to fade away.Charles Stuart Calverley
Forever; ’t is a single word! Our rude forefathers deemed it two: Can you imagine so absurd A view?Charles Stuart Calverley
I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that grovel Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.Charles Stuart Calverley
The farmer's daughter hath soft brown hair (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) And I met with a ballad, I can't say where, That wholly consisted of lines like these.Charles Stuart Calverley
I can not sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low, 'Tis that I can't remember how They go.Charles Stuart Calverley