The Ingoldsby Legends or, Mirth and Marvels. By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham] |
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The Ingoldsby Legends | ||
Fancy his fright, When with all his might
Having forced up the lid, which they'd not fasten'd quite,
Of the marble sarcophagus—“All in white”
The dead Bishop started up, bolt upright
On his hinder end,—and grasped him so tight,
That the clutch of a kite Or a bull-dog's bite
When he's most provoked and in bitterest spite,
May well be conceived in comparison slight,
And having thus “tackled” him—blew out his light!!
Having forced up the lid, which they'd not fasten'd quite,
Of the marble sarcophagus—“All in white”
The dead Bishop started up, bolt upright
On his hinder end,—and grasped him so tight,
That the clutch of a kite Or a bull-dog's bite
When he's most provoked and in bitterest spite,
May well be conceived in comparison slight,
And having thus “tackled” him—blew out his light!!
The Ingoldsby Legends | ||