There's nane that's blest of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man,
Fal, la, la, etc.
Here's a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o' care, man?
Then catch the moments as they fly,
...
AS, bowed by sudden storms, the rose
Sinks on the garden's breast,
Down to the grave our brother goes,
In silence there to rest.
No more with us his tuneful voice
The hymn of praise shall swell;
No more his cheerful heart rejoice
When peals the...
Candor — my tepid friend —
Come not to play with me —
The Myrrhs, and Mochas, of the Mind
Are its iniquity —
* * *
I askd my Dear Friend Orator Prigg[4]
Whats the first part of Oratory he said a great wig
And what is the second then dancing a jig
And bowing profoundly he said a great wig
...
I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because — because if he should die
While I was gone — and I — too late —
Should reach the Heart that wanted me —
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted — hunted so — to see —
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me — they noticed me...
If anybody's friend be dead
It's sharpest of the theme
The thinking how they walked alive —
At such and such a time —
Their costume, of a Sunday,
Some manner of the Hair —
A prank nobody knew but them
Lost, in the Sepulchre —
How warm, they were, on such a day,
...
My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I'd shoot the human race
And then to glory run!
My friend must be a Bird —
Because it flies!
Mortal, my friend must be,
Because it dies!
Barbs has it, like a Bee!
Ah, curious friend!
Thou puzzlest me!
Thou magic lyre, whose fascinating sound
Seduc'd the savage monsters from their cave,
Drew rocks and trees, and forms uncouth around,
And bade wild Hebrus hush his list'ning wave;
No more thy undulating warblings flow
O'er Thracian wilds of everlasting snow!
Awake to sweeter sounds, thou...
There was no bell to peal thy funeral dirge,
No nodding plumes to wave above thy bier,
No shroud to wrap thee but the foaming surge,
No kindly voices thy dark way to cheer,
No eye to give the tribute of a tear.
Alone, "unknell'd,...