Acis & Galataea: Or, The Beau! the Belle!! and the Blacksmith!!! A Piece of Oxford Extravagance. Written for the Annual Dramatic Performance at the Victoria Theatre, Oxford, December, 1869, in Aid of the Radcliffe Infirmary

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Slatter & Rose, 1869 - 43 síđur
 

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Síđa 8 - Ah me! for aught that ever I could read. Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Her.
Síđa 33 - But, children, you should never let Your angry passions rise ; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.
Síđa 7 - Content, or pleasure, but the good and just? Judges and senates have been bought for gold, Esteem and love were never to be sold.
Síđa 8 - ... caught By every idle pleasure. When first her gentle bosom knows Love's flame, it wanders never; Deep in her heart the passion glows, She loves, and loves for ever. Oh! say not woman's false as fair, That, like the bee, she ranges, Still seeking flowers more sweet and rare, As fickle fancy changes. Ah no! the love that first can warm Will leave her bosom never; No second passion e'er can charm, She loves, and loves for ever.
Síđa 7 - Oh! say not woman's heart is caught By every idle pleasure. When first her gentle bosom knows Love's flame, it wanders never; Deep in her heart the passion glows, She loves, and loves for ever. Oh! say not woman's false as fair, That, like the bee, she ranges, Still seeking flowers more sweet and rare, As fickle fancy changes. Ah no! the love that first can...
Síđa 9 - sa jolly good fellow, For he 'sa jolly good fellow, For he's a jolly good fellow, Which nobody can deny ! With a hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! With a hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! With a hip, hip, hip. hurrah ! Hurrah ! Then :— So say we all...
Síđa 56 - Rheumatics, asthma, cold and bronchial wheezings. And while the north-east wind doth round him blow, Ye clouds — hail, mizzle, drizzle, sleet and snow, Rain rakes and pitch-forks, kittens, cats and dogs, While down his throat pour vapours, mists and fogs. May broken chilblains ever stud his toes, May icicles hang pendent from his nose, May winter's cold his...
Síđa 8 - I am that sweet-chaunting bird Whom the night doth smile at ; And like one that kept his word Proved my dolphin pilot. As he glided onward still With his oarless rowing, With the lute within my bill I would cheer his going. Dolphins never ply for hire But for love and glory, When the sons of song require : Trust Arion's story.
Síđa 33 - How dare ye, &c. Acis. The time we waste ; come on, no more delay, My soul's in arms and eager for the fray. Where are the gloves, the sponge, and such like things ? POL.

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