Page 373 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
P. 373

■‘ To  judder by  l.hy  companion,  sir,
                                               Thou  art a  bawling calf—
                                          For men  are  known,  I  trow,  sir, by
                                               Ye company  they keep—
                                          Though  only  chickens  roost in trees
                                               Whilst  honest people sleep !M
                                          Sir  Mose yelled  fiercely;  but, quite weak
                                               From  hanging all ye  night,
                                          Me fed  upon ye  bull,  which  tossed
                                               Him  clean  up  out of sight!


                                                            C anto  IV.

                                          Then  up  gat  bold young Saril-u-el
                                               And  galloped  down  ye  lane,
                                          Unto his  true-love’s  window-ledge,
                                               And  tapped  upon  ye pane :
                                          ‘■Come forth,  swect-heart;  my  love thou  art!
                                               Come forth  ami  hie  away!
                                          Thou'It married be,  dear  girl, to  me,
                                               Before  high  noon tins day.
                                          Sweet. All.u’dnda,  fly with me,
                                               And  ride these  vast concerns,
                                          Held  safe in  trust for  bold  Sir  Mosel
                                               (If  ever  he returns !)11

                                          Now gallop, gallop,  gallant  horse !
                                               Now  gallop  with thy prize!
                                          And  hurl  ye  clay  in  chuncks away
                                               As  big as  apple-pies!
                                          Fly down  ye road,  around  ye hill,
                                               Up to ye  castle  door;
                                          Across  ye trembling drawbridge fly
                                               Up to ye banquet  floor!
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