The Baviad, and MaeviadJ. Wright, 1797 - 145 Seiten |
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abfurd abuſe againſt Album Anna Matilda applauſe Arno aſk Baviad becauſe Bell bird of night breast Crufca dicere Dunciad eaſe Edwin faid fame fancy faſhion fatire feems fenfe fhall filent fince firſt foft folly fome fong fonnet fool foul ftill ftrains fuch fweet genius gentle gentleman Greathead hæc head heart himſelf honour hour IMITATIONS inſpire itſelf laft Laura Maria lays lyre Mæviad moſt mouſe mufe muſt myſelf Nereids Nightman nonfenfe NOTES o'er obferve occafion odes Oracle paffed Parfons pleaſe poem Pope praiſe preſent PRINTER'S DEVIL profe publiſhed Purſue quid reader reaſon reſpect ribaldry rife Robinſon ſay ſcarce ſcene ſeems ſenſe ſhall ſhare ſhe ſhould ſmall ſmile ſong ſpreads ſtage ſtate ſtill ſubject ſuch ſweet Taſker taſte thee thefe themſelves theſe thoſe thou thro traſh Trojan HORSE underſtand uſe Vaughan verfe verſe whofe whoſe wiſhed YENDA
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 116 - I am turn'd to clay, Shall duly to her grave repair, And pluck the ragged moss away, And weeds that have
Seite 34 - Pafquin's head Be full as hard, and near as thick, as thine ; Yet has the world admiring on it read Many a keen gibe, and many a fportive line.
Seite 117 - I offer at thy shrine , Thy grave must then undecked remain, And all thy memory fade with mine. And can thy soft persuasive look, Thy voice that might with music vie, Thy air that every gazer took, Thy matchless eloquence of eye ; Thy spirits...
Seite 20 - tis sweet, To hear " That's HE !" from every one we meet : That's HE whom critic Bell declares divine, For whom the fair diurnal laurels twine; Whom magazines, reviews, conspire to praise And Greathead calls the Homer of our days.
Seite 117 - I DID IT : and, would fate allow. Should visit still, should still deplore But health and strength have left me now, And I, alas ! can weep no more. Take then, sweet maid ! this simple strain, The last I offer at thy shrine ; Thy grave must then undeck'd remain, And all thy memory fade with mine. And can thy soft persuasive look...
Seite 36 - This has induced me to lay aside a second castigation which I had prepared for him, though I do not think it expedient to omit what I had formerly written. HERE on the rack of Satire let him lie, Fit garbage for the hell-hound Infamy.
Seite 114 - Lo ! while your buds prepare to blow, On icy pinions comes the blast, And nips your root, and lays you low. 'Alas, for such ungentle doom ! But I will shield you; and supply A kindlier soil on which to bloom, A nobler bed on which to die.
Seite 52 - Who made goose-pinions and white rags so dear. Yet Oldham, in his rude, unpolish'd strain, Could hiss the clamorous, and deride the vain, 305 Who bawl'd their rhymes incessant thro" the town, Or brib'd the hawkers for a day's renown.
Seite 51 - Come then, around their works a circle draw, And near it plant the dragons of the law ; With labels writ, " Critics far hence remove, Nor dare to censure what the great approve.
Seite 40 - Words of gigantic bulk, and uncouth sound, In rattling triads the long sentence bound ; While points with points, with periods periods jar, And the whole work seems one continued war ! Is not THIS sad? Friend. ' 'Tis pitiful, God knows,