Hva folk mener - Skriv en omtale
Vi har ikke funnet noen omtaler på noen av de vanlige stedene.
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
appear Ballyspellin better bishop blood bring clouds comes court crown Dean dear death delight Dick divine doctor ears ends EPIGRAM eyes face fair fame foes fools friends gave give grace grown half hand head hear heart hold honour hope hundred keep kind king lady land learning leave lines live looks Lord madam mean merit mind Muse nature ne'er never night nymph o'er once pass poem poets poor praise pride race reason rest rhyme rise round seen sense sent sick side sing soon soul spite stand sure Swift tell thee There's thing thou thought thousand true turn verse virtue wise wish Wood write
Side 246 - Offending race of human kind, By nature, reason, learning, blind ; You who, through frailty, stepp'd aside ; And you, who never fell from pride : You who in different sects were shamm'd, And come to see each other damn'd ; (So some folk told you, but they knew No more of Jove's designs than you ;) — The world's mad business now is o'er, And I resent these pranks no more. — I to such blockheads set my wit ! I damn such fools ! — -Go, go, you're bit.
Side 263 - 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!
Side 261 - Now the departing prayer is read: He hardly breathes. The Dean is dead. Before the passing-bell begun, The news through half the town has run. O, may we all for Death prepare! What has he left? And who's his heir?
Side 272 - Yet malice never was his aim ; He lash'd the vice, but spared the name : No individual could resent, Where thousands equally were meant : His satire points at no defect, But what all mortals may correct ; For he abhorr'd that senseless tribe Who call it humour when they gibe.
Side 260 - And well remembers Charles the Second. 'He hardly drinks a pint of wine ; 'And that, I doubt, is no good sign. 'His stomach too begins to fail: 'Last year we thought him strong and hale; 'But now, he's quite another thing; 'I wish he may hold out till Spring.' Then hug themselves, and reason thus; 'It is not yet so bad with us.
Side 259 - Tis all on me a usurpation. . I have no title to aspire ; Yet, when you sink, I seem the higher. In Pope I cannot read a line, But with a sigh I wish it mine ; When he can in one couplet fix More sense than I can do in six ; It gives me such a jealous fit, I cry, " Pox take him and his wit !" I grieve to be outdone by Gay In my own humorous biting way.
Side 271 - In exile with a steady heart, 'He spent his Life's declining part; 'Where, folly, pride, and faction sway, 'Remote from St. John, Pope, and Gay.
Side 266 - Suppose me dead; and then suppose A Club assembled at the Rose; Where from Discourse of this and that, I grow the Subject of their Chat: And, while they toss my Name about, With Favour some, and some without; One quite...
Side 292 - Creatures of every kind but ours Well comprehend their natural powers, While we, whom reason ought to sway, Mistake our talents every day. The Ass was never known so stupid, To act the part of Tray or Cupid ; Nor leaps upon his master's lap, There to be...