The Poetical Works of the Late Christopher Anstey, Esq: With Some Account of the Life and Writings of the Author

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T. Cadell and W. Davies, 1808 - 503 страници

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Страница 430 - The daily labours of the bee Awake my soul to industry: Who can observe the careful ant, And not provide for future want ? • My dog (the trustiest of his kind) With gratitude inflames my mind : I mark his true, his faithful way, And in my service copy Tray.
Страница 436 - Discern you generous, mild, and kind; They see you grieve to hear distress, And pant already to redress. Go on, the height of good attain, Nor let a nation hope in vain: For hence we justly may presage The virtues of a riper age.
Страница 490 - your back ascend, And owe my safety to a friend. You know my feet betray my flight; To friendship every burden's light." The Horse replied, " Poor honest Puss, It grieves my heart to see thee thus; Be comforted; relief is near, For all your friends are in the rear.
Страница 444 - Like you we dote upon our own. Where yet was ever found a mother, Who'd give her booby for another ? And should we change with human breed, Well might we pass for fools indeed.
Страница 490 - She next the stately Bull implored, And thus replied the mighty lord • " Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well, I may, without offence, pretend To take the freedom of a friend. Love calls me hence ; a favourite cow Expects me near yon barley-mow ; And when a lady's in the case, You know, all other things give place. To leave you thus might seem unkind ; But see, the Goat is just behind." The Goat remarked her pulse was high, Her languid head, her heavy eye ; " My back,"...
Страница 472 - His now-forgotten friend a Snail, Beneath his house, with slimy trail Crawls o'er the grass ; whom when he spies, In wrath he to the...
Страница 488 - Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame. The child, whom many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care. Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend.
Страница 468 - Lion-cub, of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts Of vulgar and ignoble beasts; With asses all his time he spent, Their club's perpetual president. He caught their manners, looks, and airs; An ass in everything but ears! If e'er his Highness meant a joke, They grinn'd applause before he spoke; But at each word what shouts of praise! Good gods! how natural he brays!
Страница 432 - Rapacious animals we hate; Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate. . Do not we just abhorrence find Against the toad and serpent kind? But envy, calumny, and spite, Bear stronger venom in their bite. Thus ev'ry object of creation Can furnish hints to contemplation; And from the most minute and mean, A virtuous mind can morals glean.
Страница 492 - of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler passed you by ; How strong are those, how weak am I ! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offence. Excuse me, then. You know my heart. But dearest friends, alas ! must part ! How shall we all lament : Adieu ! For see, the hounds are just in view.

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