The Poetical Farrago: Being a Miscellaneous Assemblage of Epigrams and Other Jeux D'esprit, Томове 1–2J. Deighton, 1794 |
Съдържание
| 40 | |
| 46 | |
| 52 | |
| 57 | |
| 71 | |
| 87 | |
| 89 | |
| 96 | |
| 102 | |
| 105 | |
| 112 | |
| 118 | |
| 127 | |
| 133 | |
| 139 | |
| 145 | |
| 147 | |
| 153 | |
| 158 | |
| 164 | |
| 169 | |
| 170 | |
| 176 | |
| 182 | |
| 185 | |
| 187 | |
| 195 | |
| 195 | |
| 195 | |
| 35 | |
| 39 | |
| 41 | |
| 47 | |
| 63 | |
| 69 | |
| 75 | |
| 81 | |
| 85 | |
| 87 | |
| 93 | |
| 94 | |
| 97 | |
| 100 | |
| 104 | |
| 106 | |
| 112 | |
| 118 | |
| 147 | |
| 150 | |
| 153 | |
| 156 | |
| 162 | |
| 168 | |
| 169 | |
| 171 | |
| 178 | |
| 184 | |
| 189 | |
Други издания - Преглед на всички
Често срещани думи и фрази
AARON HILL againſt Alzira aſk beauty behold beſt bleffings bleft blifs bluſh boaſt bodies write breaſt bright Cæfar cauſe charms Chloe cry'd DEAN SWIFT death defire Ditto e'er EPIGRAM ev'ry eyes face faid fair fame fate fatire fear feem fenfe fhall fhew fhine figh firſt fmile foft fome fons foul ftill fuch fure fweet glaſs grace heart heav'n himſelf Ibid Jove juft juſt LADY lefs leſs loft LORD Lord Burlington lover maid MARSHAL SAXE moft moſt mufes muft muſt ne'er nymph o'er paffion Paul Brill pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure poets POPE pow'r praiſe pride raiſe reft ſaid ſay ſenſe ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhould ſhow ſpeak ſtate ſtill ſweet tell thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thouſand thro Twas uſe verfe verſe VERSES virtues VOLTAIRE Whilft Whofe whoſe wife wiſh ΤΟ
Популярни откъси
Страница 16 - Should Dennis publish, you had stabb'd your Brother, Lampoon'd your Monarch, or debauch'd your Mother ; Say, what revenge on Dennis can be had ? Too dull for laughter, for reply too mad : On one so poor you cannot take the law; On one so old your sword you scorn to draw : Uncag'd then let the harmless monster rage, Secure in dulness, madness, want, and age.
Страница 84 - To print, or not to print — that is the question. Whether 'tis better in a trunk to bury The quirks and crotchets of outrageous fancy, Or send a well wrote copy to the press...
Страница 32 - By chase our long-lived fathers earned their food ; Toil strung the nerves and purified the blood : But we their sons, a pampered race of men, Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. Better to hunt in fields for health unbought Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise for cure on exercise depend ; God never made his work for man to mend.
Страница 151 - While at the firft you cruel prov'd, And grant the blifs too late •, You hinder'd me of one I lov'd, To give me one I hate.
Страница 184 - Dorinda's sparkling wit and eyes United cast too fierce a light, Which blazes high, but quickly dies, Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight. Love is a calmer, gentler joy, Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace, Her Cupid is a blackguard boy, That runs his link full in your face.
Страница 94 - To John I ow'd great obligation ; But John unhappily thought fit To publish it to all the nation : Sure John and I are more than quit.
Страница 159 - I'm the god of sweet song, and inspirer of lays ; Nor for lays, nor sweet song, the fair fugitive stays ; I'm the god of the harp — stop my fairest — in vain ; Nor the harp, nor the harper could fetch her again. Every plant, every flower, and their virtues I know, God of light I'm above, and of physic below : At the dreadful word physic, the nymph fled more fast; At the fatal word physic she doubled her haste.
Страница 190 - Would soon finish his woes. When in rage he came there, Beholding how steep The sides did appear, And the bottom how deep ; His torments projecting, And sadly reflecting, That a lover forsaken A new love may get; But a neck, when once broken, Can never be...
Страница 159 - The lavifh praifes of the babler, fame, I thought them fuch, and went prepar'd to pry, And trace the charmer with a critic's eye ; Refolv'd to find fome fault before unfpy'd, And difappointed, if but fatisfy'd. Love pierc'd the...
Страница 119 - DEMOCRITUS, dear droll, revisit earth, And with our follies glut thy heighten'd mirth : Sad Heraclitus, serious wretch, return, In louder grief our greater crimes to mourn. Between you both I unconcern'd stand by ; Hurt, can I laugh ? and honest, need I cry ? FOR MY OWN TOMBSTONE.