|John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.|
| When the suns last rays are fading|
Into twilight soft and dim.
| Theodore L. Barker: Thou wilt think of me again.|
| Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee|
And cherishd thine image for years;
Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee,
In secret, in silence, and tears.
| Mrs. (David) Porter: Thou hast wounded the Spirit.|
| Rattle his bones over the stones!|
He s only a pauper, whom nobody owns!
| Thomas Noel: The Paupers Ride.|
| In the days when we went gypsying|
A long time ago;
The lads and lassies in their best
Were dressd from top to toe.
| Edwin Ransford: In the Days when we went Gypsying.|
| Speak gently! t is a little thing|
Droppd in the hearts deep well;
The good, the joy, that it may bring
Eternity shall tell.
| G. W. Langford: Speak gently.|
| Hope tells a flattering tale, 1|
Delusive, vain, and hollow.
Ah! let not hope prevail,
Lest disappointment follow.
| Miss Wrother: The Universal Songster. Vol. ii. p. 86.|
| Nose, nose, nose, nose!|
And who gave thee that jolly red nose?
Sinament and Ginger, Nutmegs and Cloves,
And that gave me my jolly red nose.
| Ravenscroft: Deuteromela, Song No. 7. 2 (1609.)|
| The mother said to her daughter, Daughter, bid thy daughter tell her daughter that her daughters daughter hath a daughter.|
| George Hakewill: Apologie. Book iii. Chap. v. Sect. 9. 3|
Hope told a flattering tale,
That Joy would soon return;
Ah! naught my sighs avail,
For Love is doomed to mourn.
Anonymous (air by Giovanni Paisiello, 17411816): Universal Songster, vol. i. p. 320. [back]
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Knight of the Burning Pestle, act i. sc. 3. [back]
Hakewill translated this from the Theatrum Vitæ Humanæ, vol. iii. [back]