morning, noon
-- ` Fair clime , whose every season smiles Benignant o'er those blessed isles ' -- blessed isles , indeed ; what stuff ! -- `` Tis Greece , but living Greece no more ; ' that would do for a motto for the barbers to stick on their pots of bear 's grease ! -- ` Clime of the unforgotten brave ; ' _ unforgotten _ ! yes , I should think so ; how the deuce should they be forgotten , when one is bored with them morning , noon , and night , for everlasting , by old Sam , and all the other pastors and masters in the kingdom ? Hang me , if I can read this trash ; the only poetry that ever was written worth reading is ` Don Juan ' . '' He then flung the book down , adding : -- `` It 's confoundedly cold , I think . Mullins , shut that window . ''