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Стр. 320 - O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,* More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Стр. 127 - It's no in books, it's no in lear, To make us truly blest : If happiness hae not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest...
Стр. 33 - Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired, Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retired, Where village statesmen talked with looks profound, And news much older than their ale went round.
Стр. 21 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!
Стр. 286 - Nor wonder how his fortune sunk, His brothers fleece him when he's drunk. I own the moral not exact, Besides, the tale is false, in fact; And so absurd, that could I raise up, From fields Elysian, fabling...
Стр. 243 - If symmetry could charm deprived of ease; When motionless he stands, we all approve; What pity 'tis the thing was made to move. His voice, in one dull, deep, unvaried...
Стр. 21 - Since by life's passing breath, blown up from earth, Light as the summer's dust, we take in air A moment's giddy flight, and fall again, Join the dull mass, increase the trodden soil, And sleep, till Earth herself shall be no more...
Стр. 172 - Heraclitus gave a just censure, saying, Men sought truth in their own little worlds, and not in 'the great and common world; for they disdain to spell and so by degrees to read in the volume of God's works ; and contrariwise by continual meditation and agitation of wit do urge and as it were invocate their own spirits to divine and give oracles unto them, whereby they are deservedly deluded.
Стр. 99 - ... never shall know. Then up rose these heroes as brisk as the sun, And their horses, like his, were prepared to run. Now when in the morning Matt ask'd for the score, John kindly had paid it the evening before. Their breakfast so warm to be sure they did eat, A custom in travellers mighty discreet; And thus with great friendship and glee they went on, To find out the place you shall hear of anon, Call'd Down, down, hey deny down.

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