harington, sir john quotes

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Sir John, Sir, is a very unclubbable man.
Here lies the body of Sir John Guise.
Nobody laughs, and nobody cries;
...
Long-expected one and twenty
Ling'ring year at last is flown,
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It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were afalling,
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They warsled up, they warsled down,
Till Sir John fell to the ground,
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Fair, rich, and young: how rare is her perfection,
Were it not mingled with one foul infection!
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Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
For if it prosper, none dare call it treason.
Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
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and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
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Oh! full Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!
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