O, how shall summers honey breath hold outAgainst the wreckful siege of battering days,When rocks impregnable are not so stout,Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
When the grounds were deserted once more, there wriggled from a hole between the roots of the tree stump a stout and whiskery old rabbit with a wand clamped between her teeth.
The preferred tipple for most people on St Patrick's Day is a pint of Irish stout, a heavy, black beer, although others may plump for a glass of Irish whiskey.
Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.
“Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come! ” yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.
And as he struggled and squirmed like an eel to escape from him, the Green Fisherman took a stout cord and tied him hand and foot, and threw him into the bottom of the tub with the others.