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Is there a parson much bemused in beer,
A clerk foredoomed his father's soul to cross,
Friend to my life, which did not you prolong,
Obliged by hunger and request of friends.
Fired that the house rejects him, "sdeath I'll print it, And shame the fools.'
No creature smarts so little as a fool.
Destroy his fib, or sophistry in vain !
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,
I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came. Line 127.
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms,
Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
And he whose fustian's so sublimely bad,
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
By flatterers besieged,
And so obliging that he ne'er obliged;
Who but must laugh, if such a man there be?
Cursed be the verse, how well soe'er it flow,
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel,
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,
Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Me, let the tender office long engage
To rock the cradle of reposing age,
With lenient arts extend a mother's breath,
And keep awhile one parent from the sky. Line 419.
SATIRES, EPISTLES, AND ODES OF HORACE.
Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day.
Book ii. Satire i. Line 6.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
Book ii. Satire i. Line 69.
But touch me, and no minister so sore;
Book ii. Satire i. Line 76.
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl,
Book ii. Satire i. Line 127.
For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best,
Book ii. Satire ii. Line 159.
Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.†
Book . Epistle i. Line 26.
The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 108.
One simile that solitary shines
In the dry desert of a thousand lines.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 111.
Book i. Epistle i. Line 201.
Who says in verse what others say in prose.
* See the Odyssey, Book xv. line 84.
† Above any Greek or Roman name.
DRYDEN. Upon the Death of Lord Hastings.
Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 266.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 280.
The last and greatest art, the art to blot.
The many-headed monster of the pit.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 304.
Years following years steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.
The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg.
Book ii. Epistle ii. Line 72.
Book ii. Epistle ii. Line 85.
Book ii. Epistle ii. Line 163.
Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spoke.
Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride!
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Epilogue to the Satires. Dialogue i. Line 136.
Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night :
Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Newton.
O thou! whatever title please thine ear,
Booki. Line 21.
And solid pudding against empty praise.
Book i. Line 54.
Now night descending, the proud scene was o'er,
Book i. Line 89.
Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep.
Book i. Line 94.
Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll
Book i. Line 127.
How index-learning turns no student pale,
Book i. Line 279.
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke. Book ii. Line 34.
All crowd, who foremost shall be damned to fame.
Book iii. Line 158.
Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls, And makes night hideous ;*-answer him ye owls.
Book iii. Line 165.
A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
Book iv. Line 92.
The right divine of kings to govern wrong.
Stuff the head
Book iv. Line 188.
With all such reading as was never read ;
Book iv. Line 249.
* Making night hideous.
Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 4.