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appear bear beauty better bring comes court dead Dean dear death divine ears ends EPIGRAM eyes face fair fame fancy fate fear fools give grace grown half hand head hear heart honour hope keep kind king lady late laws learning leave less lies light lines live look Lord lost merit mind Muse nature ne'er never night nymph o'er once pass play poem poets poor praise pride queen reason rest rise round rule scarce scene seen sense sent side sight soon soul spirit stand Stella sure Swift tell thee thing thou thought thousand told town true turn verse virtue wise write written
Стр. 335 - Here shift the scene, to represent How those I love my death lament. Poor Pope will grieve a month, and Gay A week, and Arbuthnot a day. St. John himself will scarce forbear To bite his pen and drop a tear. The rest will give a shrug, and cry, " I'm sorry — but we all must die...
Стр. 338 - Without regarding private ends, Spent all his credit for his friends ; And only chose the wise and good ; No flatterers ; no allies in blood : But succour'd virtue in distress, And seldom fail'd of good success ; As numbers in their hearts must own, Who, but for him, had been unknown.
Стр. 299 - As jEsop would the world persuade ; He better understands his trade : Nor comes whene'er his lady whistles, But carries loads, and feeds on thistles. Our author's meaning, I presume, is A creature bipes et implumis ; Wherein the moralist design'd A compliment on human kind ; For here he owns, that now and then Beasts may degenerate into men.
Стр. 339 - LIBERTY was all his cry; for her he stood prepar'd to die; for her he boldly stood alone; for her he oft" expos'd his own. Two kingdoms, just as faction led, had set a price upon his head ; but not a traitor could be found, to sell him for six hundred pound. Had he...
Стр. 331 - Behold the fatal day arrive! How is the Dean? He's just alive. Now the departing prayer is read: He hardly breathes. The Dean is dead.
Стр. 470 - As fine as daubers' hands can make it, In hopes that strangers may mistake it, We think it both a shame and sin To quit the true old Angel Inn.
Стр. 54 - Dame, said I, as loud as I could bawl, do you know what a Loss I have had? Nay, said she, my Lord Col/way's Folks are all very sad; For my Lord Dromedary comes a Tuesday without fail; Pugh! said I, but that's not the Business that I ail.
Стр. 84 - No hurt shall come to you or yours : Uut for that pack of churlish boors, Not fit to live on Christian ground, They and their houses shall be drown'd; While you shall see your cottage rise, And grow a church before your eyes.
Стр. 88 - what's this you tell us? I hope you don't believe me jealous! But yet, methinks, I feel it true, And really yours is budding too — Nay, — now I cannot stir my foot; It feels as if 'twere taking root.
Стр. 297 - Though hard to find in every case The fittest man to fill a place: His promises he ne'er forgot, But took memorials on the spot; His enemies, for want of charity, Said, he affected popularity: 'Tis true, the people understood, That all he did was for their good; Their kind affections he has tried; No love is lost on either side.