Once--it's long gone--when two gulls we beheld,。，
Says I to myself, as her shilling I seized,。，
The hosts he sent to slumbers.。，He marched on the foe,
。，In odorous swathes delicious:
Warriors of the Golden Torque。，And kept my thoughts in a quiver.
Death echoes me round.。，Fresh from the skies!
To shame the shroud:。，There's a Juggler outjuggles all!
I。，Says I to myself, as her shilling I seized,
And two sang loud with the birds of May,。，Until they grow TOO violent,--why, then,
Look on quite grave:- the sunlight flecks his side;。，
PHANTASY。，Over the hills, and away.
。，For him to hope that he'll get clean by't.
Is purple, and orange, and gray:。，Let the Lord Mayor o' London roast oxen whole:
When the three cowled monks, from black as coal,。，We've travelled times to this old common:
IX。，One was a youth with a lawless love,
，。，You can't match the colour o' these heath mounds,