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Strona ix - This folio of four pages, happy work! Which not even critics criticise; that holds Inquisitive attention, while I read, Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break; What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns ? Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge, That tempts Ambition.
Strona 219 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
Strona 77 - In him we lose more than we now know ; for " take him all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like again.
Strona 88 - FRIEND of my soul ! this goblet sip, 'Twill chase that pensive tear ; 'Tis not so sweet as woman's lip, But, oh ! 'tis more sincere. Like her delusive beam, 'Twill steal away thy mind ; But, like Affection's dream, It leaves no sting behind ! Come, twine the wreath, thy brows to shade ; These...
Strona 60 - Is all that Jack Ketch dares to give you; Then mind not such trifles a feck, For why should the likes of them grieve you? And now, boys, come tip us the deck.
Strona 220 - Que faire, hélas ! dans mes peines cruelles, Je crains la paix autant que les combats ; Vous y verrez tant de beautés nouvelles ; Vous leur plairez ; mais ne m'oubliez pas. Oui, vous plairez et vous vaincrez sans cesse ; Mars et l'Amour suivront partout vos pas. De vos succès gardez la douce ivresse, Soyez heureux ; mais ne m'oubliez pas.
Strona 32 - Though all his thoughts on wine and women fall, His are so bad, sure he ne'er thinks at all. The flesh he lives upon is rank and strong, His meat and mistresses are kept too long.
Strona 55 - ... Amoret's eyes; That my wishes, that never were bounded before, Are here bounded by friendship, and ask for no more. Is't reason ? No ; that my whole life will belie, For who so at variance as reason and I ? Is 't ambition that fills up each chink of my heart, Nor allows any softer sensation a part ': 0 no ; for in this all the world will agree— One folly was never sufficient for me...
Strona 75 - ... composed, he early felt the want of that domestic comfort on which he might have rested in the brief hour of peace — in the short interval betwixt active service, imminent peril, and momentary recreation. Lauded, admired, and sought everywhere but at home, where complaining and reproach formed a sad contrast to the merited reception he met with elsewhere, he naturally turned from the spot, his heart sickened and revolted, and was at last completely estranged. " The connection which he formed...