I Love it, I love it! and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
I ’ve treasured it long as a sainted prize,
I ’ve bedewed it with tears, I ’ve embalmed it with sighs.
’T is bound by a thousand bands to my heart;
Not a tie will break, not a link will start;
Would you know the spell?—a mother sat there!
And a sacred...
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In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars,
And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars,
Away from the world and its toils and its cares,
I ’ve a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs.To mount to this realm is a toil, to be sure,
But the fire there is bright and the air rather pure;
And the view I behold on a sunshiny day
Is...