The Works of Dr. Jonathan Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, Volum 7
W. Bowyer, C. Bathurst, W. Owen, W. Strahan, J. Rivington, J. Hinton, L. Davis, and C. Reymers, R. Baldwin, J. Dodsley, S. Crowder and Company and B. Collins., 1768
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againſt appears bear beauty Becauſe better bring captain clouds comes court dean dear death Dick divine ears ev'ry eyes face fair fame fear fire firſt give grace grown half hand head hear heart hope houſe juſt keep kind king lady laſt late laws learning leave leſs light lines live look lord madam mean mind moſt Muſe muſt nature ne'er never night noſe nymph o'er once pleaſe poem poets poor praiſe pride riſe round ſaid ſame ſaw ſay ſee ſeen ſhall ſhe ſhew ſhould ſide ſome ſoon ſtate ſtill Strephon ſuch ſure tell thee theſe things thoſe thou thought thouſand true turn uſe verſes virtue whoſe wind wiſe Written
Side 71 - But, that which wonderful appears, I speak to eyes, and not to ears. He oft...
Side 417 - THE VOWELS We are little airy creatures, All of different voice and features; One of us in glass is set, One of us you'll find in jet. T'other you may see in tin, And the fourth a box within. If the fifth you should pursue, It can never fly from you.
Side 261 - So geographers, in Afric maps, With savage pictures fill their gaps, And o'er unhabitable downs Place elephants for want of towns.
Side 92 - That lies in old wood like a hare in her form ; With teeth or with claws it will bite or will scratch, And chambermaids christen this worm a deathwatch ; Because like a watch it always cries click ; Then woe be to those in the house who are sick : For, as sure as a gun, they will give up the ghost, If the maggot cries click when it scratches the post.
Side 260 - Depend upon't their judgment's right. But if you blab, you are undone : Consider what a risk you run : You lose your credit all at once ; The town will mark you for a dunce ; The vilest doggrel, Grub-street sends, Will pass for yours with foes and friends ; And you must bear the whole disgrace, Till some fresh blockhead takes your place.
Side 178 - Hence the mean and sordid soul, Like his body, rank and foul; Hence that wild suspicious peep, Like a rogue that steals a sheep...
Side 146 - But, madam, I beg you contrive and invent, And worry him out, till he gives his consent. Dear madam, whene'er of a barrack I think, An I were to be hang'd, I can't sleep a wink : For if a new crotchet comes into my brain, I can't get it out, though I'd never so fain.
Side 359 - The Ass approaching next, confess'd, That in his heart he loved a jest: A wag he was, he needs must own, And could not let a dunce alone: Sometimes his friend he would not...