The New Foundling Hospital for Wit: Being a Collection of Fugitive Pieces, in Prose and Verse, Not in Any Other Collection. With Several Pieces Never Before Published, Band 6John Almon J. Debrett, opposite Burlington House, in Piccadilly, 1786 |
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Seite 18
... light'ning keen , made Dulness fly , Ere yet was broke life's golden chain ; - ( Bleft fav'rite in the Mufes ' train ! ) Shall Dulness now prefume to tread , And Envy mark him out when dead ! Curst be the vain , falfe , coward flave ...
... light'ning keen , made Dulness fly , Ere yet was broke life's golden chain ; - ( Bleft fav'rite in the Mufes ' train ! ) Shall Dulness now prefume to tread , And Envy mark him out when dead ! Curst be the vain , falfe , coward flave ...
Seite 19
... light'ning arm'd , when angry Jove Scares the poor tenants of the grove , I cannot blindly league with those , Who thus the Poet's creed oppofe . To Nature , in my earliest youth , I vow'd my conftancy and truth ; When in her ...
... light'ning arm'd , when angry Jove Scares the poor tenants of the grove , I cannot blindly league with those , Who thus the Poet's creed oppofe . To Nature , in my earliest youth , I vow'd my conftancy and truth ; When in her ...
Seite 20
... lights each object plac'd , And heighten'd all the piece with taste . O Conway ! whilst the public voice .. Applauds our Sov'reign's well weigh'd choice , Fain would my patriot Mufe proclaim The Statefman's and the Soldier's fame : And ...
... lights each object plac'd , And heighten'd all the piece with taste . O Conway ! whilst the public voice .. Applauds our Sov'reign's well weigh'd choice , Fain would my patriot Mufe proclaim The Statefman's and the Soldier's fame : And ...
Seite 27
... Light are our hopes , but weighty are our fears ; So ( for ' tis now too late to quit the field ) We to your judgment at difcretion yield ; O then be merciful : the fault's not ours , If , with a wish to please , we want the pow'rs ...
... Light are our hopes , but weighty are our fears ; So ( for ' tis now too late to quit the field ) We to your judgment at difcretion yield ; O then be merciful : the fault's not ours , If , with a wish to please , we want the pow'rs ...
Seite 27
... Light are our hopes , but weighty are our fears ; So ( for ' tis now too late to quit the field ) We to your judgment at difcretion yield ; O then be merciful : the fault's not ours , If , with a wish to please , we want the pow'rs ...
... Light are our hopes , but weighty are our fears ; So ( for ' tis now too late to quit the field ) We to your judgment at difcretion yield ; O then be merciful : the fault's not ours , If , with a wish to please , we want the pow'rs ...
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beauty beſt blefs bleft blifs boaſt bofom breaſt British Lion charms circling hours dear defire diſplay'd drefs e'er eaſe erft ev'n ev'ry eyes facred faid fair fame fate fcenes fcum fear feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhine fhould figh filks fleep flow'rs fmile foft fome fons foon forrow foul ftate ftill fuch funk fure fweet GAME AT CHESS grace heart Heav'n houſe juſt ladics Lady loft lonely grove lov'd maid Mifs mind Molly Morpheus moſt Mufe muft muſt Nature's ne'er never nymph o'er paffion pleafing pleaſe pleaſure poffefs'd pow'r praiſe pray'r pride rais'd reft reſt rife round ſhall ſhe SIR GRIFFITH BOYNTON ſkies ſmile ſpread ſtand ſtate ſtill ſweet tear thee thefe themſelves theſe thofe thoſe thou thought thro Townly uſe Virtue WESTMINSTER SCHOOL Whilft whofe whoſe wife youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 31 - The busy day, the peaceful night, Unfelt, uncounted, glided by ; His frame was firm, his powers were bright, Though now his eightieth year was nigh. Then with no fiery throbbing pain, No cold gradations of decay, Death broke at once the vital chain, And freed his soul the nearest way.
Seite 79 - The righted orphan's grateful tear. To Virtue and her friends a friend, Still may my voice the weak defend, Ne'er may my prostituted tongue Protect th' oppressor in his wrong, Nor wrest the spirit of the laws To sanctify a villain's cause.
Seite 100 - Tis all a trick ; these all are shams, By which they mean to cheat you ; But have a care, for you're the Lambs, And they the Wolves that eat you. Nor let the thoughts of no delay To these their courts misguide you ; 'Tis you're the showy Horse, and they The Jockeys that will ride you.
Seite 135 - Tis harder still to fix than gain a heart; What's won by beauty must be kept by art. Too kind a treatment the blest lover cloys, And oft despair the growing flame destroys...
Seite 199 - That living could not bear to see An equal, now lies torn and dead ; Here his pale trunk, and there his head : Great Pompey ! while I meditate, With solemn horror, thy sad fate, Thy carcass scatter'd on the shore Without a name, instructs me more Than my whole library before.
Seite 46 - Alas ! by fome degree of woe We every blifs muft gain : The heart can ne'er a tranfport know, That never feels a pain.
Seite 68 - The heart that melts for others' woe, Shall then scarce feel its own. The wounds which now each moment bleed, Each moment then shall close; And tranquil days shall still succeed To nights of calm repose.
Seite 174 - I'm alive, To take the Crown at eighteen years, The wife at twenty-five ! The mystery how shall we explain, For sure as Dowdeswell said, * Thus early if they're fit to reign They must be fit to wed ! Quoth Tom to Dick, thou art a fool, And little know"st of life, Alas ! 'tis easier far to rule A kingdom than a wife.
Seite 54 - till eleven, or cock my lac'd Hat ; Then step to my Neighbours, 'till Dinner, to chat. Dinner over, to Toms, or to James's I go, The News of the Town so impatient to know ; While Law, Locke, and Newton, and all the rum Race, That talk of their Modes, their Ellipses, and Space, The Seat of the Soul, and new Systems on high, In Holes, as abtruse...
Seite 27 - To form that harmony of soul and face, Where beauty shines, the mirror of the mind. Such was the maid, that in the morn of youth,. In virgin innocence, in Nature's pride, Blest with each art, that owes its charm to truth, Sunk in her Father's fond embrace, and died. He weeps : O venerate the holy tear ! Faith lends her aid to ease Affliction's load; The parent mourns his child upon the bier, The Christian yields an angel to his God.