Satires and EpistlesClarendon Press, 1881 - 164 sider |
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Side 24
... father's soul to cross , Who pens a stanza , when he should engross ? Is there , who , lock'd from ink and paper , scrawls With desp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls ? All fly to Twit'nam , and in humble strain Apply to me , to ...
... father's soul to cross , Who pens a stanza , when he should engross ? Is there , who , lock'd from ink and paper , scrawls With desp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls ? All fly to Twit'nam , and in humble strain Apply to me , to ...
Side 27
... for this idle trade , No duty broke , no father disobey'd . The muse but serv'd to ease some friend , not wife , To help me thro ' this long disease , my life , IIO 120 130 La To second , Arbuthnot ! thy art and care TO THE SATIRES . 27.
... for this idle trade , No duty broke , no father disobey'd . The muse but serv'd to ease some friend , not wife , To help me thro ' this long disease , my life , IIO 120 130 La To second , Arbuthnot ! thy art and care TO THE SATIRES . 27.
Side 34
... he lov'd , or lov'd him , spread , A friend in exile , or a father dead ; The whisper , that to greatness still too near , Perhaps yet vibrates on his sov'reign's ear- 330 340 350 Welcome for thee , fair virtue ! all the past 34 PROLOGUE.
... he lov'd , or lov'd him , spread , A friend in exile , or a father dead ; The whisper , that to greatness still too near , Perhaps yet vibrates on his sov'reign's ear- 330 340 350 Welcome for thee , fair virtue ! all the past 34 PROLOGUE.
Side 35
... father , mother , body , soul , and muse . Yet why ? that father held it for a rule , It was a sin to call our neighbour fool : That harmless mother thought * * * * * : Hear this , and spare his family , James Moore ! Unspotted names ...
... father , mother , body , soul , and muse . Yet why ? that father held it for a rule , It was a sin to call our neighbour fool : That harmless mother thought * * * * * : Hear this , and spare his family , James Moore ! Unspotted names ...
Side 46
... fathers prais'd rank ven'son . You suppose , Perhaps , young men ! our fathers had no nose . Not so a buck was then a week's repast , 90 And ' twas their point , I ween , to make it last ; More pleas'd to keep it till their friends ...
... fathers prais'd rank ven'son . You suppose , Perhaps , young men ! our fathers had no nose . Not so a buck was then a week's repast , 90 And ' twas their point , I ween , to make it last ; More pleas'd to keep it till their friends ...
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Addison allusion Arbuthnot authors Bavius Ben Jonson Bishop Blackmore Boileau Bolingbroke Budgel called Carruthers character Church Cibber court died Dryden Duke Dunciad ears Edward Wortley Montagu England English Epil Essay ev'n ev'ry eyes fame father fools genius George George II grace heart heav'n honest honour Imitation of Horace John Johnson Juvenal king knave Lady laugh learned letters libeller live Lord Bolingbroke Lord Fanny Lord Hervey lov'd Lyttelton Matthew Tindal moral muse ne'er never noble numbers o'er Parnassian party Pindaric pleas'd poem poet poet's poetical poetry poor Pope Pope's satire pow'r praise Prince Prol Queen Queen Caroline quincunx rhyme Satires and Epistles satirist says Sir Robert Walpole song soul Spence Swift taste tell thou thought thro Tory truth Twickenham verse vice virtue Warburton's Warton Whig wife words write
Populære avsnitt
Side 30 - Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne; View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caused himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
Side 125 - With lust and violence the house of God? In courts and palaces he also reigns, And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury, and outrage: And when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
Side 34 - A Cherub's face, a reptile all the rest; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust; Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Side 25 - Nine years !" cries he, who high in Drury-lane, Lull'd by soft zephyrs through the broken pane, Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before term ends, Oblig'd by hunger and request of friends : " The piece, you think, is incorrect? why take it ; I'm all submission ; what you'd have it, make it.
Side 24 - 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. What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.
Side 36 - Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of reposing age, With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep awhile one parent from the sky...
Side 52 - Be but great, With praise or infamy leave that to fate; Get place and wealth — if possible with grace; If not, by any means get wealth and place.
Side 28 - I smiled ; if right, I kiss'd the rod. Pains, reading, study, are their just pretence, And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense.
Side 33 - That Fop, whose pride affects a patron's name, Yet absent, wounds an author's honest fame: Who can your merit selfishly approve, And show the sense of it without the love...
Side 146 - I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, "Would he ' had blotted a thousand," which they thought a malevolent speech.