THEmelancholy days have come, the saddest of the year;There ’s not a flower on all the hills because my first is here.And through the keen and wintry air I watch the leaves my last;I shall not see my whole again until the winter ’s past.
THEmelancholy days have come, the saddest of the year;There ’s not a flower on all the hills because my first is here.And through the keen and wintry air I watch the leaves my last;I shall not see my whole again until the winter ’s past.
THEmelancholy days have come, the saddest of the year;There ’s not a flower on all the hills because my first is here.And through the keen and wintry air I watch the leaves my last;I shall not see my whole again until the winter ’s past.
THEjolly old farmer was my last;As he went to my first, o’er my total he passed.
THEjolly old farmer was my last;As he went to my first, o’er my total he passed.
THEjolly old farmer was my last;As he went to my first, o’er my total he passed.
ANartist stepped into an office one day,And held up my first for the clerk to survey;“It ’s a good black and white,But it is n’t quite right,For I just drew it off in a hurry last night.It ’s not very fine,Nor of novel design,But I hope ’t will be taken and hung on the line.”He had scarcely gone out when a lady came by,And she stopped in to ask if my second was dry.“ ’T was a canvas,” she said,“And it fills me with dread,To think that the colors have faded or spread.”Well, I sat there all day,In that very same way,Amazed at the endless and changing arrayOf my whole that appeared in a motley display;Percale and piqué,Some green and some gray,Worn in all colors and worn in all shades,Worn by the ladies and worn by the maids,By large and by small,By short and by tall,Till I ran away home to get out of it all.
ANartist stepped into an office one day,And held up my first for the clerk to survey;“It ’s a good black and white,But it is n’t quite right,For I just drew it off in a hurry last night.It ’s not very fine,Nor of novel design,But I hope ’t will be taken and hung on the line.”He had scarcely gone out when a lady came by,And she stopped in to ask if my second was dry.“ ’T was a canvas,” she said,“And it fills me with dread,To think that the colors have faded or spread.”Well, I sat there all day,In that very same way,Amazed at the endless and changing arrayOf my whole that appeared in a motley display;Percale and piqué,Some green and some gray,Worn in all colors and worn in all shades,Worn by the ladies and worn by the maids,By large and by small,By short and by tall,Till I ran away home to get out of it all.
ANartist stepped into an office one day,And held up my first for the clerk to survey;“It ’s a good black and white,But it is n’t quite right,For I just drew it off in a hurry last night.It ’s not very fine,Nor of novel design,But I hope ’t will be taken and hung on the line.”He had scarcely gone out when a lady came by,And she stopped in to ask if my second was dry.“ ’T was a canvas,” she said,“And it fills me with dread,To think that the colors have faded or spread.”Well, I sat there all day,In that very same way,Amazed at the endless and changing arrayOf my whole that appeared in a motley display;Percale and piqué,Some green and some gray,Worn in all colors and worn in all shades,Worn by the ladies and worn by the maids,By large and by small,By short and by tall,Till I ran away home to get out of it all.
ASmy first was walking with weary step, on a drear and lonely road,With a heavy heart and a downcast glance, of my second be bore a load;He saw my third, he was soon my third, he had reached his welcome goal,And with song and dance and merry jest, he listened to my whole.
ASmy first was walking with weary step, on a drear and lonely road,With a heavy heart and a downcast glance, of my second be bore a load;He saw my third, he was soon my third, he had reached his welcome goal,And with song and dance and merry jest, he listened to my whole.
ASmy first was walking with weary step, on a drear and lonely road,With a heavy heart and a downcast glance, of my second be bore a load;He saw my third, he was soon my third, he had reached his welcome goal,And with song and dance and merry jest, he listened to my whole.
BENEATHthe gaslight’s brilliant glareThe feast was spread with dainties rare.My whole was set with silver fine,And shining glass and sparkling wine.A wise professor, old and staid,Was talking to a chattering maid.In ancient lore she was not versed,She was my last, and he my first;While I across the table sat,Wishing I could enjoy her chat.
BENEATHthe gaslight’s brilliant glareThe feast was spread with dainties rare.My whole was set with silver fine,And shining glass and sparkling wine.A wise professor, old and staid,Was talking to a chattering maid.In ancient lore she was not versed,She was my last, and he my first;While I across the table sat,Wishing I could enjoy her chat.
BENEATHthe gaslight’s brilliant glareThe feast was spread with dainties rare.My whole was set with silver fine,And shining glass and sparkling wine.A wise professor, old and staid,Was talking to a chattering maid.In ancient lore she was not versed,She was my last, and he my first;While I across the table sat,Wishing I could enjoy her chat.
OLDDeacon Griggs made money fast;His greatest virtue was my last.But his son John turned out my whole,Which grieved the deacon’s sordid soul;For hast’ning to my first, the sonDisbursed the gold that Griggs had won.
OLDDeacon Griggs made money fast;His greatest virtue was my last.But his son John turned out my whole,Which grieved the deacon’s sordid soul;For hast’ning to my first, the sonDisbursed the gold that Griggs had won.
OLDDeacon Griggs made money fast;His greatest virtue was my last.But his son John turned out my whole,Which grieved the deacon’s sordid soul;For hast’ning to my first, the sonDisbursed the gold that Griggs had won.
ANancient family of ChaldeeWent from my first to Canaan’s land.My second I can never see,But I can hold it in my hand.My whole is found on the ocean’s bed,Though often on pillows he rests his head.
ANancient family of ChaldeeWent from my first to Canaan’s land.My second I can never see,But I can hold it in my hand.My whole is found on the ocean’s bed,Though often on pillows he rests his head.
ANancient family of ChaldeeWent from my first to Canaan’s land.My second I can never see,But I can hold it in my hand.My whole is found on the ocean’s bed,Though often on pillows he rests his head.
UPONmy last I saw a yacht;My last is smooth, my first is not.My first felt Alexander’s blade,My last has formed a strong blockade;Both can be broken, cut or made;And when you see my whole displayedUpon my last, oh, then beware!To venture near it do not dare.
UPONmy last I saw a yacht;My last is smooth, my first is not.My first felt Alexander’s blade,My last has formed a strong blockade;Both can be broken, cut or made;And when you see my whole displayedUpon my last, oh, then beware!To venture near it do not dare.
UPONmy last I saw a yacht;My last is smooth, my first is not.My first felt Alexander’s blade,My last has formed a strong blockade;Both can be broken, cut or made;And when you see my whole displayedUpon my last, oh, then beware!To venture near it do not dare.
MYfirst is often broken, ’t is so frail;Sometimes it has a head, sometimes a tail;Lives in the water, worn upon the hand,Dooms the offender, represents a land.My last is found on mankind and on brute,Possessed alike by fish and fowl and fruit.The daring mariner who seeks the pole,Failing to find it, may secure my whole.
MYfirst is often broken, ’t is so frail;Sometimes it has a head, sometimes a tail;Lives in the water, worn upon the hand,Dooms the offender, represents a land.My last is found on mankind and on brute,Possessed alike by fish and fowl and fruit.The daring mariner who seeks the pole,Failing to find it, may secure my whole.
MYfirst is often broken, ’t is so frail;Sometimes it has a head, sometimes a tail;Lives in the water, worn upon the hand,Dooms the offender, represents a land.My last is found on mankind and on brute,Possessed alike by fish and fowl and fruit.The daring mariner who seeks the pole,Failing to find it, may secure my whole.
ASOLDIERand a sailor metOne day upon the shore;And one was my first with a coat of my last,And my whole the other wore.
ASOLDIERand a sailor metOne day upon the shore;And one was my first with a coat of my last,And my whole the other wore.
ASOLDIERand a sailor metOne day upon the shore;And one was my first with a coat of my last,And my whole the other wore.
MAIDof Athens, ere we part,Hear my first with tender heart;Ere another hour is past,Let me be of thee my last.Then behold my very soulFilled o’erflowing with my whole.
MAIDof Athens, ere we part,Hear my first with tender heart;Ere another hour is past,Let me be of thee my last.Then behold my very soulFilled o’erflowing with my whole.
MAIDof Athens, ere we part,Hear my first with tender heart;Ere another hour is past,Let me be of thee my last.Then behold my very soulFilled o’erflowing with my whole.
THEyacht was flying fast; the day was fair;The sky was clear and blue; and my first, whiteUpon the sailors and upon the sea.I stood upon the deck, and with my lastI saw the distant shores of Barnegat,I watched the heaving billows roll and toss,I thought that we were going to my whole.
THEyacht was flying fast; the day was fair;The sky was clear and blue; and my first, whiteUpon the sailors and upon the sea.I stood upon the deck, and with my lastI saw the distant shores of Barnegat,I watched the heaving billows roll and toss,I thought that we were going to my whole.
THEyacht was flying fast; the day was fair;The sky was clear and blue; and my first, whiteUpon the sailors and upon the sea.I stood upon the deck, and with my lastI saw the distant shores of Barnegat,I watched the heaving billows roll and toss,I thought that we were going to my whole.
ITwas my whole, a thunder-storm had burst;My last was fierce, and filled us with my first.
ITwas my whole, a thunder-storm had burst;My last was fierce, and filled us with my first.
ITwas my whole, a thunder-storm had burst;My last was fierce, and filled us with my first.
ACOLLEGEyouth toward magic yearned,And all the wizard’s arts he learned.He had the mumbo-jumbo pat,And made my first in his silk hat,Sorcery, black art, and all the restHe could accomplish with the best;And when, as wizard, he fell flat,He made my last in his silk hat.Dressed for the street, he chanced to passOne day, before his cheval-glass;With faultless garb and new cravat,He saw my whole in his silk hat.
ACOLLEGEyouth toward magic yearned,And all the wizard’s arts he learned.He had the mumbo-jumbo pat,And made my first in his silk hat,Sorcery, black art, and all the restHe could accomplish with the best;And when, as wizard, he fell flat,He made my last in his silk hat.Dressed for the street, he chanced to passOne day, before his cheval-glass;With faultless garb and new cravat,He saw my whole in his silk hat.
ACOLLEGEyouth toward magic yearned,And all the wizard’s arts he learned.He had the mumbo-jumbo pat,And made my first in his silk hat,
Sorcery, black art, and all the restHe could accomplish with the best;And when, as wizard, he fell flat,He made my last in his silk hat.
Dressed for the street, he chanced to passOne day, before his cheval-glass;With faultless garb and new cravat,He saw my whole in his silk hat.
WHENPope remarked, “Whatever is, is right,”His words were half my first. When Hamlet said,“To be or not to be,” my first was partOf his great speech, and even nowMy first is plain before your eyes. My last,Provides a home and sustenance for all;A welcome shout; an exclamation usedBy country folk or those of little wit.My whole my first my last.
WHENPope remarked, “Whatever is, is right,”His words were half my first. When Hamlet said,“To be or not to be,” my first was partOf his great speech, and even nowMy first is plain before your eyes. My last,Provides a home and sustenance for all;A welcome shout; an exclamation usedBy country folk or those of little wit.My whole my first my last.
WHENPope remarked, “Whatever is, is right,”His words were half my first. When Hamlet said,“To be or not to be,” my first was partOf his great speech, and even nowMy first is plain before your eyes. My last,Provides a home and sustenance for all;A welcome shout; an exclamation usedBy country folk or those of little wit.My whole my first my last.
NOone can work as fastAs my first my last.My whole presents at willAn enormous bill.
NOone can work as fastAs my first my last.My whole presents at willAn enormous bill.
NOone can work as fastAs my first my last.My whole presents at willAn enormous bill.
WHENfrom my ivied casement I look downUpon the garden bathed in sunset glowI see my first ranged in imposing rowsYet distant as the poles,I hear the noiseOf merry children romping in their glee;I hear their laughter and I hear my last.A hero of my youthful days there was,Who, with inquiring mind and hatchet sharp,Upon my whole reached everlasting fame.
WHENfrom my ivied casement I look downUpon the garden bathed in sunset glowI see my first ranged in imposing rowsYet distant as the poles,I hear the noiseOf merry children romping in their glee;I hear their laughter and I hear my last.A hero of my youthful days there was,Who, with inquiring mind and hatchet sharp,Upon my whole reached everlasting fame.
WHENfrom my ivied casement I look downUpon the garden bathed in sunset glowI see my first ranged in imposing rowsYet distant as the poles,I hear the noiseOf merry children romping in their glee;I hear their laughter and I hear my last.
A hero of my youthful days there was,Who, with inquiring mind and hatchet sharp,Upon my whole reached everlasting fame.
MYfirst was ground beneath the oppressor’s wheel,Subjected unto barbarous tyrannies;With ears cut off, encaged in netted wireInto a burning fiery furnace thrust.My first take from my second, and my wholeRemains.My second is a faithful friend.Gaily with him across the moors I goFrom morn to dewy eve.I went one dayTo visit an old man. Beside the fireHe sate. His well-loved pipe, made of my whole,He smoked in calm and undisturbed content.
MYfirst was ground beneath the oppressor’s wheel,Subjected unto barbarous tyrannies;With ears cut off, encaged in netted wireInto a burning fiery furnace thrust.My first take from my second, and my wholeRemains.My second is a faithful friend.Gaily with him across the moors I goFrom morn to dewy eve.I went one dayTo visit an old man. Beside the fireHe sate. His well-loved pipe, made of my whole,He smoked in calm and undisturbed content.
MYfirst was ground beneath the oppressor’s wheel,Subjected unto barbarous tyrannies;With ears cut off, encaged in netted wireInto a burning fiery furnace thrust.My first take from my second, and my wholeRemains.My second is a faithful friend.Gaily with him across the moors I goFrom morn to dewy eve.I went one dayTo visit an old man. Beside the fireHe sate. His well-loved pipe, made of my whole,He smoked in calm and undisturbed content.
MYfirst ’s a very common thing,—It has been worn by cat and king;Part of my lady’s fine attire,The soldier’s pride, the tramp’s desire.My second, with a vacant stare,Jaunty red cap and curling hair,Once at a gay and festive scene,Captured a bright and smiling queen.My whole is very often usedTo hit a beast that ’s much abused.
MYfirst ’s a very common thing,—It has been worn by cat and king;Part of my lady’s fine attire,The soldier’s pride, the tramp’s desire.My second, with a vacant stare,Jaunty red cap and curling hair,Once at a gay and festive scene,Captured a bright and smiling queen.My whole is very often usedTo hit a beast that ’s much abused.
MYfirst ’s a very common thing,—It has been worn by cat and king;Part of my lady’s fine attire,The soldier’s pride, the tramp’s desire.
My second, with a vacant stare,Jaunty red cap and curling hair,Once at a gay and festive scene,Captured a bright and smiling queen.My whole is very often usedTo hit a beast that ’s much abused.
MYdogs I love, my horses I adore;They ’re much to me, and yet my last is more.And though my first is less, my whole I know,Has ever been my last’s unconquered foe.
MYdogs I love, my horses I adore;They ’re much to me, and yet my last is more.And though my first is less, my whole I know,Has ever been my last’s unconquered foe.
MYdogs I love, my horses I adore;They ’re much to me, and yet my last is more.And though my first is less, my whole I know,Has ever been my last’s unconquered foe.
ABRAVEman looked forth and a figure he saw;’T was bound to my first—he surveyed it with awe.And as it was fast disappearing from sight,He began to my second with furious might.An often-fought foe, very hard to control,In the Scriptures we read of the fall of my whole.
ABRAVEman looked forth and a figure he saw;’T was bound to my first—he surveyed it with awe.And as it was fast disappearing from sight,He began to my second with furious might.An often-fought foe, very hard to control,In the Scriptures we read of the fall of my whole.
ABRAVEman looked forth and a figure he saw;’T was bound to my first—he surveyed it with awe.And as it was fast disappearing from sight,He began to my second with furious might.An often-fought foe, very hard to control,In the Scriptures we read of the fall of my whole.
INcertain realms men have to bringMy first to earth before their king;In others, they are only boundTo make my second touch the ground.My whole ’s a curious little man—One of a most amusing clan.
INcertain realms men have to bringMy first to earth before their king;In others, they are only boundTo make my second touch the ground.My whole ’s a curious little man—One of a most amusing clan.
INcertain realms men have to bringMy first to earth before their king;In others, they are only boundTo make my second touch the ground.My whole ’s a curious little man—One of a most amusing clan.
THOUGHsome one spoke this truthful word,“The pen is mightier than the sword,”Without my first, you ’ll all agree,Of little use the pen would be.Deep in my second, long ago,Young Mr. Green was said to throwA victim innocent of wrong,The hero of a well-known song.What products of what mighty brains!What wond’rous books my whole contains!What reams of prose and verse! Yet allTinged with the bitterness of gall!
THOUGHsome one spoke this truthful word,“The pen is mightier than the sword,”Without my first, you ’ll all agree,Of little use the pen would be.Deep in my second, long ago,Young Mr. Green was said to throwA victim innocent of wrong,The hero of a well-known song.What products of what mighty brains!What wond’rous books my whole contains!What reams of prose and verse! Yet allTinged with the bitterness of gall!
THOUGHsome one spoke this truthful word,“The pen is mightier than the sword,”Without my first, you ’ll all agree,Of little use the pen would be.
Deep in my second, long ago,Young Mr. Green was said to throwA victim innocent of wrong,The hero of a well-known song.
What products of what mighty brains!What wond’rous books my whole contains!What reams of prose and verse! Yet allTinged with the bitterness of gall!
EAGERLYI my first the packSo that we might pursue the game;I made a good deal, but the lackOf interest made the sport seem tame.My second ladies richly gownedMay see in patterns of their silk,My second also may be foundIn terrapin and buttermilk.My whole will fly right merrilyO’er many a cold and chilly mile;’T is only one, yet verily’T would equally describe a file.
EAGERLYI my first the packSo that we might pursue the game;I made a good deal, but the lackOf interest made the sport seem tame.My second ladies richly gownedMay see in patterns of their silk,My second also may be foundIn terrapin and buttermilk.My whole will fly right merrilyO’er many a cold and chilly mile;’T is only one, yet verily’T would equally describe a file.
EAGERLYI my first the packSo that we might pursue the game;I made a good deal, but the lackOf interest made the sport seem tame.
My second ladies richly gownedMay see in patterns of their silk,My second also may be foundIn terrapin and buttermilk.
My whole will fly right merrilyO’er many a cold and chilly mile;’T is only one, yet verily’T would equally describe a file.
MYfirst bears many a noble name,Two letters add, ’t is still the same.I saw my second in dark watersIt was the last of noble daughters.My whole, though very picturesque,May be quite ugly and grotesque;And Shakespeare used the word to meanThe witches in a ghastly scene.
MYfirst bears many a noble name,Two letters add, ’t is still the same.I saw my second in dark watersIt was the last of noble daughters.My whole, though very picturesque,May be quite ugly and grotesque;And Shakespeare used the word to meanThe witches in a ghastly scene.
MYfirst bears many a noble name,Two letters add, ’t is still the same.
I saw my second in dark watersIt was the last of noble daughters.
My whole, though very picturesque,May be quite ugly and grotesque;And Shakespeare used the word to meanThe witches in a ghastly scene.