. Perfect pearls of poetry and prose; the most unique, touching, inspiring and beautiful literary . or; I need so little, he often said ; And my friends and relatives here belowWont litigate over me when I am dead, Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. But the pleasantest times that he had, of all, Were the sociable hours ho used to ,With his chair tipjicd back to a neighbors wallMaking an unceremonious call, Over a ])ipo and a friendly was the finest ploafluro, he said, Of the many ho tfisted hero below, Who has no cronies, had better be dead T Said the jolly ol
. Perfect pearls of poetry and prose; the most unique, touching, inspiring and beautiful literary . or; I need so little, he often said ; And my friends and relatives here belowWont litigate over me when I am dead, Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. But the pleasantest times that he had, of all, Were the sociable hours ho used to ,With his chair tipjicd back to a neighbors wallMaking an unceremonious call, Over a ])ipo and a friendly was the finest ploafluro, he said, Of the many ho tfisted hero below, Who has no cronies, had better be dead T Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. ThiMi tho jolly old podagoguos wrinkled iaotMelted all over in aunshiuy milcB; THE JOLLY OLD PEDAGOGUE. 250 He stirred his glass with an old-school grace,Chuckled, and sipped, and prattled apace. Till the house grew merry from cellar to tiles. Im a pretty old man, he gently said, I ha /e lingered a long while, here below; Leaving his tenderest kisses there, On the jolly old pedagogues jolly oldcrown; And, feeling the kisses, he smiled, and said,Twas a glorious world, down here below^. He took the little ones upon his knee. But my heart is fresh, if my youth is fled !Said the jolly old pedagogue, long -- ago. He 3moked his pipe in the balmy air, Every night when the sun went down,Wtiite the soft, wind played in his silveryiiftir, Why wait for happiness till we are deua •Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. He sat at his door, one midsummer night, After the sun had sunk in the the lingering beams of golden lightMade his kindly old face look warm and bright 260 THE COMET. While the odorous night-wind whispered,Rest!Gently, gently, he bowed his head— There were angels waiting for him, I know;He was sure of happiness, livi»g or dead,This jolly old pedagogue, long a^o. THE COMET. THOMAS HOOD. ^P^MONG professors of astronomy,Sj«a^ Adepts in the celestial economy,c^—^ The name of Herschels very oftenf^ cited; ^ And justly so, for he is hand in
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectenglishliterature
