The works of Peter Pindar, Том 3

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Страница 190 - I wondering pause o'er Shakspeare's page, I mark, in visions of delight, the sage, High o'er the wrecks of man, who stands sublime; A Column in the melancholy Waste (Its cities humbled, and its glories past), Majestic, 'mid the solitude of time.
Страница 421 - Nicholson's mad Knights ; A joke upon the shave of Cooks at Court ; — Charms the fair Muse, and eke the World delights ; A pretty piece of inoffensive sport. Lo, in a little inoffensive Smile There lurks no Lever to oerturn the State, And King and Parliament (intention vile !), And hurl the Queen of Nations to her fate. No gunpowder my modest garrets hold, Dark lanterns, blunderbusses, masks, and matches ; Few words my simple furniture unfold ; A bed, a stool, a rusty coat in patches.
Страница 325 - The Mail arrives ! hark ! hark ! the cheerful horn, To Majesty announcing oil and corn; Turnips and cabbages, and soap and candles; And lo, each article Great Caesar handles ! Bread, cheese, salt, catchup, vinegar, and mustard, Small beer, and bacon, apple-pie and custard: All, all, from Windsor greets his frugal Grace, For Weymouth is ad — mn'd expensive place.
Страница 139 - ... &c. in favour of the two Kingdoms ; why might not a literary commerce take place between the great Kien Long, and the no less celebrated Peter Pindar? Thou art a man of Rhymes; and so am I.
Страница 165 - AH ! poor intoxicated little knave, Now senseless, floating on the fragrant wave; Why not content the cakes alone to munch ? Dearly thou pay'st for...
Страница 188 - Deity of flesh and blood ? 0 lock the temple with thy strongest key, For fear thy Deity, a comely she, Should one day ramble in a frolic mood : —
Страница 166 - And well mayest thou rejoice — 'tis very plain, That near wert thou to Death's unsocial lands. And now thou rollest on thy back about, Happy to find thyself alive, no doubt — Now turnest — on the table making rings, Now crawling, forming a wet track, Now shaking the rich liquor from thy back, Now fluttering nectar from thy silken wings. Now standing on thy head, thy strength to find, And poking out thy small, long legs behind; And now thy pinions dost thou briskly ply; Preparing now to leave...
Страница 222 - Maid:"— I verily believe that I should go : Yet parting should I say to thee, "Farewell; I cannot help it ; witchcraft's in her cell, The Passions like to be where tempests blow. "Go, Girl, enjoy thy Fish, and Flies, and Doves; But suffer me to giggle with the Loves.
Страница 165 - tis with mortals, as it is with flies. Forever hankering after pleasure's cup, Though fate, with all his legions, be at hand, The beasts the draught of Circe can't withstand, But in goes every nose — they must, will sup.
Страница 166 - By heavens, thou mov'st a leg, and now its brother. And kicking, lo, again, thou mov'st another! And now thy little drunken eyes unclose, And now thou feelest for thy little nose, And, finding it, thou rubbest thy two hands Much as to say,

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