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appear arms bear beauty better born bring callid cause common crimes death desire Dryden earth edition English eyes face fair fall fame fate father fear fire give gods grace ground hand happy hast head heart heav'n honor hope Italy judge kind king land late laws least leave less light live look Lord lost mean mind nature never night o'er once pain Persius plain play pleasure poem poet poetry poor pow'r praise present PROLOGUE reason rest rise Roman sacred satire sense song soul sound stand sure tell thee things thou thought thro translation true turn verse vice Virgil virtue whole wife wind write written young youth
Страница 114 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Страница 114 - Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late; He had his jest, and they had his estate.
Страница 198 - Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own : He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Страница 172 - Farewell, too little and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own: For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mold with mine.
Страница 173 - Still showed a quickness ; and maturing time But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhyme. Once more, hail, and farewell ; farewell, thou young, But ah! too short, Marcellus of our tongue! Thy brows with ivy and with laurels bound; But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.
Страница 109 - Gods disgrac'd, and burnt like common Wood. This set the Heathen Priesthood in a flame, For Priests of all Religions are the same: Of whatsoe'er descent their Godhead be...
Страница xli - They have not the formality of a settled style, in which the first half of the sentence betrays the other. The clauses are never balanced, nor the periods modelled; every word seems to drop by chance, though it falls into its proper place. Nothing is cold or languid ; the whole is airy, animated, and vigorous ; what is little, is gay ; what is great, is splendid.
Страница xxi - I am convinced that compassion and mirth in the same subject destroy each other ; and in the mean time cannot but conclude, to the honour of our nation, that we have invented, increased, and perfected a more pleasant way of writing for the stage, than was ever known to the ancients or moderns of any nation, which is tragi-comedy.
Страница 134 - What share have we in nature, or in art? Where did his wit on learning fix a brand, And rail at arts he did not understand? Where made he love in Prince Nicander's vein. Or swept the dust in Psyche's humble strain? Where sold he bargains, 'whip-stitch, kiss my arse,' Promis'da play and dwindled to a farce?