The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 41Samuel Johnson C. Bathurst, 1779 |
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Страница 15
... fires devour the promis'd gain : No flaming beacons caft their blaze afar , The dreadful fignal of invafive war : 405 No trumpet's clangor wounds the mother's ear , And calls the lover from his fwooning fair . What happinefs the rural ...
... fires devour the promis'd gain : No flaming beacons caft their blaze afar , The dreadful fignal of invafive war : 405 No trumpet's clangor wounds the mother's ear , And calls the lover from his fwooning fair . What happinefs the rural ...
Страница 22
... fire from temper'd fteel ; Some point their arrows with the nicest skill , And with the warlike ftore their quivers fill . A different toil another forge employs : Here the loud hammer fafhions female toys ; Hence is the fair with ...
... fire from temper'd fteel ; Some point their arrows with the nicest skill , And with the warlike ftore their quivers fill . A different toil another forge employs : Here the loud hammer fafhions female toys ; Hence is the fair with ...
Страница 25
... fire , Blow off the cinders , and the sparks aspire ; Their arrow's point they foften in the flame , And founding hammers break its barbed frame : Of this the little pin they neatly mold , From whence their arms the fpreading fticks ...
... fire , Blow off the cinders , and the sparks aspire ; Their arrow's point they foften in the flame , And founding hammers break its barbed frame : Of this the little pin they neatly mold , From whence their arms the fpreading fticks ...
Страница 58
... fire ! CUDDY . As with Buxoma once I work'd at hay , Ev'n noon - tide labour feem'd an holiday ; And holidays , if haply fhe were gone , Like worky - days I wifh'd would foon be done . Eftfoons , O sweet - heart kind , my love repay ...
... fire ! CUDDY . As with Buxoma once I work'd at hay , Ev'n noon - tide labour feem'd an holiday ; And holidays , if haply fhe were gone , Like worky - days I wifh'd would foon be done . Eftfoons , O sweet - heart kind , my love repay ...
Страница 64
... fire the footy pot I plac`d , To warm thy broth I burnt my hands for hafte . When hungry thou stood'st flaring , like an oaf , I flic'd the luncheon from the barley - loaf ; With crumbled bread I thicken'd well thy mefs . Ah , love me ...
... fire the footy pot I plac`d , To warm thy broth I burnt my hands for hafte . When hungry thou stood'st flaring , like an oaf , I flic'd the luncheon from the barley - loaf ; With crumbled bread I thicken'd well thy mefs . Ah , love me ...
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Alcmena arms beauty Blouzelind bluſhes boaſts bofom breaſt charms cheek Cloacina coach croud dame damfel defcend diftant DORIS ECLOGUE EPISTLE erft Ev'n eyes fafe faid fair fame fate fecret feen feven fhade fhall fhepherd fhine fhould fighs fign filver fing firſt fkies flain flame fleep flies flowers fmiles foft fome fong foon forrow foul fpread ftand ftill ftreams fuch fudden fung fure fwain fweet fwell Galanthis Goddefs grace guife hand heart laft laſt loft Lubberkin maid MELANTHE Mohocks moſt Mufe muft muſt ne'er night numbers nymph o'er paffion pafs plain pleaſe pleaſure praiſe prefent pride purſue Quadrille raiſe rife rofe roſe round ſeen ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhow ſkies ſtand ſtate ſtay ſteps ſtill ſtrains ſtreet ſweet tears thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou trembling Twas verſe Vex'd VIRG whofe Whoſe youth
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Страница 216 - 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 211 - 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 220 - 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 214 - 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.