The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volume 40Samuel Johnson C. Bathurst, 1779 |
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Page 2
... Thou , fix'd of old , be now the moving land ? Although the metaphor be worn and ftale , Betwixt a state , and veffel under fail ; Let me fuppofe thee for a fhip a - while , And thus address thee in the failor's style : UNHAPPY ship , thou ...
... Thou , fix'd of old , be now the moving land ? Although the metaphor be worn and ftale , Betwixt a state , and veffel under fail ; Let me fuppofe thee for a fhip a - while , And thus address thee in the failor's style : UNHAPPY ship , thou ...
Page 11
... thou feest in bishops ' geer ,. Who crop the nurseries of learning here ; Afpiring , greedy , full of senseless prate , Devour the church , and chatter to the state ? As you grew more degenerate and base , I fent you millions of the ...
... thou feest in bishops ' geer ,. Who crop the nurseries of learning here ; Afpiring , greedy , full of senseless prate , Devour the church , and chatter to the state ? As you grew more degenerate and base , I fent you millions of the ...
Page 12
... Thou ftill with tyrants in fucceffion curst , The last invaders trampling on the first : Nor fondly hope for fome reverse of fate , Virtue herself would now return too late . Not half thy courfe of mifery is run , Thy greatest evils yet ...
... Thou ftill with tyrants in fucceffion curst , The last invaders trampling on the first : Nor fondly hope for fome reverse of fate , Virtue herself would now return too late . Not half thy courfe of mifery is run , Thy greatest evils yet ...
Page 39
... thou hast a brace , To my lady once be kind ; Give her half thy face behind . God of Time , if you be wise , Look not with your future eyes ; What imports thy forward fight Well , if you could lofe it quite . Can you take delight in ...
... thou hast a brace , To my lady once be kind ; Give her half thy face behind . God of Time , if you be wise , Look not with your future eyes ; What imports thy forward fight Well , if you could lofe it quite . Can you take delight in ...
Page 58
... Thou chief contriver of my fall , " Relentlefs Dean , to mifchief born ; " My kindred oft ' thine hide fhall gall , " Thy gown and caffock oft ' be torn . " And thy confederate dame , who brags " That the condemn'd me to the fire ...
... Thou chief contriver of my fall , " Relentlefs Dean , to mifchief born ; " My kindred oft ' thine hide fhall gall , " Thy gown and caffock oft ' be torn . " And thy confederate dame , who brags " That the condemn'd me to the fire ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt Ballyfpellin Becauſe beſt cafe chufe court Dean DEAN SWIFT dear defire Dick divine Doctor drefs dreft Dublin eyes fafe faid fame fate fatire fave fcorn feen fend fenfe fent ferve fhall fhew fhine fhould fide fince fing firft firſt fkies fome fons fools foon foul fpirits friends ftand ftill fubject fuch fure fwear give goddeſs grace hath head hear heart himſelf honour houſe IRISH juft juſt king lady laft laſt lefs loft lord madam MARBLE-HILL mattadore mind moſt Mufe muft muſt ne'er never nymph o'er paffion pleaſe poem poets Pope praiſe pride profe quadrille raiſe reafon reft rhyme rife round ſcene ſhall ſhe ſkill ſpeak ſtate ſtation STEPHEN DUCK ſtill Strephon ſtyle Swift thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand Tory Twill verfe vex'd virtue Whig whofe Whoſe wife worfe
Popular passages
Page 250 - dead, Than all the fnivelers round my bed. My good companions, never fear; ' For though you may miftake a year, Though your prognoftics run too faft, 145 They mu'ft be verify'd at laft. Behold the fatal day arrive ! *' How is the Dean ?''—" He 's juft alive." Now the departing prayer is read ; He hardly breathes — The Dean is dead.
Page 276 - And, when his medicines do no good, Supports their minds with heavenly food, At which, however well intended, He hears the clergy are offended ; And grown fo bold behind his back, To call him hypocrite and quack. In his own church he keeps a feat ; Says grace before and after meat; And calls, without affefting airs, His
Page 221 - Untwifts a wire, and from her gums A fet of teeth completely comes. Pulls out the rags contriv'd to prop Her flabby dugs, and down they drop. Proceeding on, the lovely Goddefs Unlaces next her fteel-ribb'd bodice, Which, by the operator's fkill, Prefs down the lumps, the hollows fill. Up goes her hand, and off
Page 72 - four o'clock." The chairmen are not to be found, " Come, let us play the other round." Now all in hafte they huddle on Their hoods, their cloaks, and get them gone ; But, firft, the winner muft invite The company to-morrow night. Unlucky madam, left in tears ..(Who now again quadrille forfwears), With empty
Page 254 - To fancy they could live a year ! " I find you 're but a ftranger here. " The Dean was famous in his time, " And had a kind of knack at rhyme. " His way of writing now is paft
Page 149 - Do but hear on the Clergy how glib his tongue ran ; " And, madam, fays he, if fuch dinners you give, " You'll ne'er want for Parfons as long as you live. " I ne'er knew a Parfon without a good nofe;
Page 14 - to wrap up fpice. Get all your verfes printed fair, Then let them well be dried ; And Curll muft have a fpecial care To leave the margin wide. Lend thefe to paper-fparing* Pope; And when he fits to write, No letter with an envelope Could give him more delight. When Pope has fill'd the margins round, Why then recall your loan
Page 145 - And not among ladies to give themfelves airs." .? Thus argued my Lady, but argued in vain ; The Knight his opinion refolved to maintain. But Hannah f, who liften'd to all that was paft, . ] And could not endure fo vulgar a tafte, * A cant word in Ireland for a poor country clergyman. F.
Page 145 - But a rabble of tenants, and rufty dull * Rums. " With Parfons what lady can keep herfelf clean ? . " I 'm all over daub'd when I fit by the Dean. ; " But if you will give us a barrack, my dear, , ! " The Captain, I 'm fure, will always come here; ,
Page 64 - for not a line Of all the fatire fliall be mine. Compell'd by you to tag in rhymes The common flanders of the times, Of modern times, the guilt is yours. And me my innocence fecures. Unwilling Mufe, begin thy lay, The annals of a female day. By nature turn'd to play the rake