I must mention again it was gorgeous weather, / Rhymes are so scarce in this world of ours.

Eugene Aram, though a thief, a liar, and a murderer, / Yet, being intellectual, was amongst the noblest of mankind.

The boy, a bare-legged beggarly son of a gun.

Life is with such all beer and skittles; / They are not difficult to please / About their victuals.

Meaning, however, is no great matter.

I cannot sing the old songs now! / It is not that I deem them low; / 'Tis that I can't remember how / They go.