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appear bear beasts beauty beneath called cause common court courtier creature cries cursed death disgrace equal eyes fable face fall fame fear fool fortune friendship gain give gold grew hand happiness hate hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hence honest honour hope human ignorance kind kings knaves knew known latter light lion live look Lord mankind mean merit mind moral nature ne'er never night observation once pass plain play poor praise pride prove pursue race reason replies rest reward round rule says scorn sense soul sure Swift tell thing thou thought toil tongue train true truth turns vice Vide virtue vulgar wealth wise youth
Страница 225 - But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Страница 169 - The Goat remark'd her pulse was high, Her languid head, her heavy eye : "My back," says he, "may do you harm; The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm.
Страница 167 - Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend. A hare, who in a civil way, Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the bestial train Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain. Her care was never to offend, And every creature was her friend. As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.
Страница 220 - By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on— it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one, — and here he lies.
Страница 16 - Thy fame is just, the Sage replies; Thy virtue proves thee truly wise. Pride often guides the Author's pen, Books as affected are as men: But he who studies Nature's laws, From certain truth his maxims draws ; And those, without our schools, suffice To make men moral, good, and wise.
Страница 9 - Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end, These are thy honours ! not that here thy bust Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust ; But that the Worthy and the Good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms — Here lies GAY.
Страница 81 - There in a gloomy hollow glen she found A little cottage, built of stickes and reedes In homely wize, and ,wald with sods around...
Страница 266 - I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chapfallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i