The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 41 |
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appear arms bear beauty beneath breaſt breath bright charms cheek coach cries dame DORIS eyes face fair fame fate fear fire firſt flame flow give glowing gold grace grow hand head hear heart honours kind known labours land laſt leave lies light lips live look Lord lovers maid mighty mind morn Muſe muſt ne'er never night nymph o'er once pain paint plain pleaſure praiſe pride riſe rolling roſe round ſay ſee ſeen ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhould ſome ſong ſoul ſounds ſpread ſtand ſtate ſtill ſtrains ſtreams ſtreets ſuch ſun ſwain ſweet ſwelling tears thee theſe thoſe thou thought tongue town trembling true turn vain various verſe virgin warm whoſe wide wind woods youth
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Страница 215 - If I would not give up the three Graces, I wish I were hang'd like a dog, And at court all the drawingroom faces, For a glance of my sweet Molly Mog.
Страница 166 - To honest Bounce is bread and butter. While you, and every courtly fop, Fawn on the Devil for a chop, I've the humanity to hate A butcher, though he brings me meat...
Страница 165 - WELCOME, thrice welcome to thy native place ! — What, touch me not ? what, shun a wife's embrace ? Have I for this thy tedious absence borne, And waked, and wish'd whole nights for thy return?
Страница 209 - Coxcombs without number ! Moon and stars that shone so bright, To the torch and waxen light, And whole nights at ombre.
Страница 165 - I see thee ramm'd, Or on the house-top by the monkey cramm'd, The piteous images renew my pain, And all thy dangers I weep o'er again.
Страница 165 - Why start you ? are they snakes ? or have they claws ? Thy Christian seed, our mutual flesh and bone : Be kind at least to these ; they are thy own.
Страница 218 - Churchwardens too prudent to hazard the halter, As yet only venture to steal from the altar. But now, to get gold, They may be more bold, And rob on the highway since Jonathan's cold : For Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease, And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please. VI. Some by publick revenues, which pass'd thro...
Страница 165 - And oft lift up thy holy eye and hand, Praying the Virgin dear, and saintly choir, Back to the port to bring thy bark entire.
Страница 212 - twas my pride, 'Twas not my heart thy love deny'd, Come back, dear youth, again. As t'other day my hand he feiz'd, My blood with thrilling motion flew ; Sudden I put on looks difpleas'd, And hafty from his hold withdrew.
Страница 215 - Nephew! Your Grief is but Folly, In Town you may find better Prog; Half a Crown there will get you a Molly, A Molly much better than Mog.