The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 42, Страница 2

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Страница 115 - 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.
Страница 106 - Spare your comparisons,' replied An angry rose, who grew beside. 'Of all mankind, you should not flout us; What can a poet do without us! In every love-song roses bloom; We lend you colour and perfume. Does it to Chloe's charms conduce, To found her praise on our abuse? Must we, to flatter her, be made To wither, envy, pine and fade?
Страница 73 - I must bid the world adieu, Let me my former life review. I grant my bargains well were made; But all men overreach in trade ; 'Tis self-defence in each profession ; Sure self-defence is no transgression.
Страница 152 - s born for sloth ? To some we find The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd. Some at the sounding anvil glow, Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw ; Some, studious of the wind and tide, From pole to pole our commerce guide ; Some (taught by industry) impart With hands and feet the works of art ; While some, of genius more refined, With head and tongue assist mankind ; Each, aiming at one common end, Proves to the whole a needful friend.
Страница 28 - And from the most minute and mean, A virtuous mind can morals glean. Thy fame is just, the sage replies ; Thy virtue proves thee truly wise.
Страница 74 - twill then be known My charities were amply shown." An Angel came: "Ah! friend," he cried, "No more in flattering hope confide. Can thy good deeds in former times Outweigh the balance of thy crimes? What widow or what orphan prays To crown thy life with length of days?
Страница 34 - The Lion crav'd the Fox's art ; The Fox, the Lion's force and heart. The Cock implor'd the Pigeon's flight, Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light : The Pigeon strength of wing...
Страница 35 - I grant, an ancient Ram replies, We bear no terror in our eyes ; Yet think us not of soul so tame, Which no repeated wrongs inflame ; Insensible of ev'ry ill, Because we want thy tusks to kill.
Страница 102 - Tis conquest to assert your right. How cumbrous is the gilded coach ! The pride of man is our reproach. Were we...
Страница 93 - Birds ! (the mother cries) This hill delicious fare supplies ; Behold the busy negro race, See millions blacken all the place ! Fear not ; like me with freedom eat ; An Ant is most delightful meat. How bless'd, how envied, were our life, Could we but 'scape the poulterer's knife!

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