The Fables of John Gay: Illustrated, with an Original Memoir, Introduction, and Annotations,

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G. Routledge, 1854 - 271 страници

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Страница xvi - Life is a Jest, and all Things show it; I thought so once, but now I know it.
Страница 7 - The daily labours of the BEE Awake my soul to industry. Who can observe the careful ANT, And not provide for future want ? My DOG (the trustiest of his kind) With gratitude inflames my mind. I mark his true, his faithful way, And in my service copy TRAY.
Страница 155 - 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 112 - Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks: Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
Страница 8 - But, possessing all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your experience inform me how the day may now...
Страница 116 - THE TURKEY AND THE ANT. In other men we faults can spy, And blame the mote that dims their eye, Each little speck and blemish find, To our own stronger errors blind. A turkey, tired of common food, Forsook the barn, and sought the wood; Behind her ran her infant train, Collecting here and there a grain. 'Draw near, my birds,' the mother cries, This hill delicious fare supplies; Behold, the busy negro race, See, millions blacken all the place!
Страница 73 - 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 254 - 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
Страница 76 - His now forgotten friend, a snail, Beneath his house, with slimy trail, Crawls o'er the grass ; whom when he spies, In wrath he to the...
Страница 17 - The woman's blind," the Mother cries, "I see wit sparkle in his eyes." "Lord, Madam, what a squinting leer! No doubt the Fairy hath been here.

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