Thomas Hood

Over the brink of it
Picture it--think of it,
Dissolute man.
Lave in it--drink read more

Over the brink of it
Picture it--think of it,
Dissolute man.
Lave in it--drink of it
Then, if you can.

But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.

But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.

And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
read more

And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
All on their drooping stems they sink unfanned.

While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us read more

While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us chime in a peal, one and all,
For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.