The Odd Fellows' Magazine, Volumen6

M. Wardle, 1841
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This is Andrew and you can suck my dick. You talk too much like level2 &1. Those who I was in cya with know I put it down. I'll put you down. Everywhere!! You don't fuckin know me and I urge you to not make me hurt you. Independent is one on one lol guy!! You a man?? Don't forget I play with toys boys!! 

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p. 260 "well-known fact that proter tastes better out of a pewter mug"

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Página 259 - The Churchyard abounds with images which find a mirror in every mind, and with sentiments to which every bosom returns an echo.
Página 312 - He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man...
Página 180 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Página 198 - ... to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, On the flourishing bush where it grew. I hastily seized it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas ! I snapp'd it, it fell to the ground. And such...
Página 3 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village- Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Página 403 - And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent...
Página 341 - Boon Nature scattered, free and wild, Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. Here eglantine embalmed the air, Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; The primrose pale and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower...
Página 102 - And still her feet, no less than the sweet tune To which they moved, seemed as they moved to blot The thoughts of him who gazed on them ; and soon ' All that was, seemed as if it had been not j And all the gazer's mind was strewn beneath Her feet like embers ; and she, thought by thought, ' Trampled its sparks into the dust of death...
Página 354 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Página 100 - Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains — They crowned him long ago ; But who they got to put it on Nobody seems to know.

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