Category: Poetry
It was the time of year when cockneys fly From town to country, and from there to town. I am not sure, but think it was July; I would not swear it was, nor bet a crown, When, as I told you, cockneys hurry down In two hours' railway journey far away, And rush to places of immen...
Good day, and how d'ye do my friends and neighbours? I must have dozed upon my easy chair; I feel refreshed and recommence my labours, And urge my soaring Pegasus through air, N...
1. Chapter 1It was the time of year when cockneys fly From town to country, and from there to town. I am not sure, but think it was July; I would not swear it was, nor bet a crown, When, as...
3. Chapter 3I take my goosequill for some recreation, I'll have a pleasurable time to-night, A little change without the perturbation Of nitro-glycerine and dynamite: Just now I'm somewhat...