The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 41Samuel Johnson C. Bathurst, 1779 |
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Страница 15
... thou the force To wind the twisted horn , to guide the horse ? To keep thy feat unmov'd , haft thou the fkill , O'er the high gate , and down the headlong hill ? Canft thou the ftag's laborious chace direct , Or the strong fox through ...
... thou the force To wind the twisted horn , to guide the horse ? To keep thy feat unmov'd , haft thou the fkill , O'er the high gate , and down the headlong hill ? Canft thou the ftag's laborious chace direct , Or the strong fox through ...
Страница 46
... thou mightest fee it , dideft thou take a walk into the fields at the proper season : even as maister Milton hath elegantly t forth the fame : " As " As one who long in populous city pent , 46 POEMS . ' GAY'S.
... thou mightest fee it , dideft thou take a walk into the fields at the proper season : even as maister Milton hath elegantly t forth the fame : " As " As one who long in populous city pent , 46 POEMS . ' GAY'S.
Страница 47
... Thou wilt not find my fhepherdeffes idly piping on oaten reeds , but milking the kine , tying up the fheaves , or if the hogs are aftray driving them to the styes . My fhepherd gathereth none other nofegays but what are the growth of ...
... Thou wilt not find my fhepherdeffes idly piping on oaten reeds , but milking the kine , tying up the fheaves , or if the hogs are aftray driving them to the styes . My fhepherd gathereth none other nofegays but what are the growth of ...
Страница 52
... thou henceforth fweetly fleep ! Sheer , fwains , oh fheer your foftest sheep , To fwell his couch ; for , well I ween , He fav'd the realm , who fav'd the Queen . Quoth I , please God , I'll hye with glee To court , this Arbuthnot to ...
... thou henceforth fweetly fleep ! Sheer , fwains , oh fheer your foftest sheep , To fwell his couch ; for , well I ween , He fav'd the realm , who fav'd the Queen . Quoth I , please God , I'll hye with glee To court , this Arbuthnot to ...
Страница 54
... thou haft mine Eclogues fair , But let not thefe detain thine ear . Let not th ' affairs of states and kings Wait , while our Bowzybeus fings . Rather than verse of simple swain Should stay the trade of France or Spain ; Or , for the ...
... thou haft mine Eclogues fair , But let not thefe detain thine ear . Let not th ' affairs of states and kings Wait , while our Bowzybeus fings . Rather than verse of simple swain Should stay the trade of France or Spain ; Or , for the ...
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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.