Recreations of the Rabelais club, 1880(-1888).

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Seite 69 - Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
Seite 39 - Call him not old, whose visionary brain Holds o'er the past its undivided reign. For him in vain the envious seasons roll Who bears eternal summer in his soul.
Seite 74 - QUI LUY JECTA DE LA NEIGE Anne par jeu me jecta de la neige, Que je cuidoys froide, certainement : Mais c'estoit feu, l'experience en ay je, Car embrasé je fus soudainement.
Seite 5 - Tho' you may find us somewhat insipid and tame ! I've a great treat in store for you — turn, and look there ! That's 'Sirbne,' who indited ' The Ghoul of May fair.'" Oh ! the wild thrill that shot thro' this passionate heart ! There — before me — alone in her glory — apart From that milksoppy, maudlin, contemptible throng, Sat the being I'd yearned for and burned for so long ! I respectfully gazed one brief moment — but stop ! For particulars, vide design at the top : She's that sweet,...
Seite 41 - Shakspeare et la nature, Si tu n'y retrouvais quelques anciens sanglots? Comprendrais-tu des cieux l'ineffable harmonie, Le silence des nuits, le murmure des flots, Si quelque part là-bas la fièvre et l'insomnie Ne t'avaient fait songer à l'éternel repos?
Seite 72 - Now neither lives, but day by day Sees the suns wasting in the west, And feels their flight, and doth delay To lead the life he loveth best. So from thy city prison broke, Martial, thy wail for life misspent, And so, through London's noise and smoke My heart replies to the lament. F'or dear as Tagus with his gold, And swifter Salo, were to thee, So dear to me the woods that fold The streams that circle Fernielea ! APRIL ON TWEED 51 APRIL ON TWEED.
Seite 74 - Puis que le feu loge secrètement Dedans la neige, où trouveray je place Pour n'ardre point? Anne, ta seule grâce Estaindre peult le feu que je sens bien, Non point par eau, par neige ne par glace, Mais par sentir un feu pareil au mien.
Seite 6 - ... titters fond of flam, You judes that clobber for the stramm, You ponces good at talking tall, With fawneys on your dexter famm — A mot's good-night to one and all! Likewise you molls that flash your bubs For swells to spot and stand you sam, You bleeding bonnets, pugs, and subs, You swatchel-coves that pitch and slam, You magsmen bold that work the cram, You flats and joskins great and small, Gay...
Seite 6 - You spunges miking round the pubs, You flymy titters fond of flam, You judes that clobber for the stramm, You ponces good at talking tall, With fawneys on your dexter famm — A mot's good-night to one and all ! Likewise you molls that flash your bubs For swells to spot and stand you sam, You...
Seite 72 - ... Sees the suns wasting in the west, And feels their flight, and doth delay To lead the life he loveth best. So from thy city prison broke, Martial, thy wail for life misspent, And so, through London's noise and smoke My heart replies to the lament. For dear as Tagus with his gold, And swifter Salo, were to thee, So dear to me the woods that fold The streams that circle Fernielea ! April on Tweed.

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