The poets of Great Britain complete from Chaucer to Churchill, Tom 401807 |
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Strona 133
... Homer dy'd three thousand years ago . Why did I write ? what sin to me unknown , Dipp'd me in ink , my parents ' , or my own ? 126 As yet a child , nor yet a fool to fame , I lisp'd in numbers , for the numbers came . I left no calling ...
... Homer dy'd three thousand years ago . Why did I write ? what sin to me unknown , Dipp'd me in ink , my parents ' , or my own ? 126 As yet a child , nor yet a fool to fame , I lisp'd in numbers , for the numbers came . I left no calling ...
Strona 158
... Homer's rule the best , Welcome the coming , speed the going guest . ) • Pray Heav'n it last ! ( cries Swift ) as you go on ; I wish to God this house had been your own ! Pity ! to build without a son or wife : Why , you'll enjoy it ...
... Homer's rule the best , Welcome the coming , speed the going guest . ) • Pray Heav'n it last ! ( cries Swift ) as you go on ; I wish to God this house had been your own ! Pity ! to build without a son or wife : Why , you'll enjoy it ...
Strona 166
... Homer's mice , Or gods to save them in a trice ! ( It was by Providence they think , For your damn'd stucco has no chink ) An't please your Honor , ' quoth the peasant , This same desert is not so pleasant : Give me again my hollow tree ...
... Homer's mice , Or gods to save them in a trice ! ( It was by Providence they think , For your damn'd stucco has no chink ) An't please your Honor , ' quoth the peasant , This same desert is not so pleasant : Give me again my hollow tree ...
Strona 202
... Homer ) since I live and thrive , Indebted to no prince or peer alive , Sure I should want the care of ten Monros , If I would scribble rather than repose . 65 70 Years foll'wing years steal something ev'ry day , At last they steal us ...
... Homer ) since I live and thrive , Indebted to no prince or peer alive , Sure I should want the care of ten Monros , If I would scribble rather than repose . 65 70 Years foll'wing years steal something ev'ry day , At last they steal us ...
Strona 205
... Homer's spirit . Call Tibbald Shakespeare , and he'll swear the Nine , Dear Cibber ! never match'd one ode of thine . Lord ! how we strut through Merlin's cave , to see No poets there but Stephen , you , and me . 140 Walk with respect ...
... Homer's spirit . Call Tibbald Shakespeare , and he'll swear the Nine , Dear Cibber ! never match'd one ode of thine . Lord ! how we strut through Merlin's cave , to see No poets there but Stephen , you , and me . 140 Walk with respect ...
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Author bard Bavius beauty Behold bless'd Boileau charms Cibber court Criticism dæmon dear Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness Dunciad EPISTLE Eridanus Essay Essay on Criticism ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate flame folly fool Francis Atterbury genius gentle Gildon Goddess grace hath hear heart Heav'n hero Homer honor Horace Iliad IMITATIONS kings knave laws learned Leonard Welsted Letter LEWIS THEOBALD live Lord lov'd Matthew Concanen MIST'S JOURNAL moral Muse ne'er never numbers o'er octavo once Ovid person pleas'd Poem poet poet's poor Pope pow'r praise pride printed proud Queen rage REMARKS rhymes rise sacred saith Sappho satire shade shew shine sing SMIL soft soul Swift tell thee thine things thou thought Town truth Twas verse Virg Virgil virtue Whig wife words wretched writ write youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 132 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Strona 125 - A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross?
Strona 132 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers load, On wings of winds came flying...
Strona 131 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Strona 136 - As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Strona 126 - Wit, and Poetry, and Pope. Friend to my Life (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What Drop or Nostrum can this plague remove?
Strona 36 - Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor; This year a reservoir, to keep and spare : The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir, In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst, And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst.
Strona 125 - I said; Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Strona 129 - And, when I die, be sure you let me know Great Homer died three thousand years ago. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Dipp'd me in ink, my parents', or my own?
Strona 170 - Conspicuous scene ! another yet is nigh, (More silent far) where kings and poets lie ; Where MURRAY (long enough, his country's pride) Shall be no more than TULLY, or than HYDE ! Rack'd with sciatics,.