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Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 266. The last and greatest art, the art to blot.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 280. 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.
Book i. Epistle ii. Line 72. The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg.
Book ii. Epistle ii. Line 85. Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spoke.
Book ii. Epistle ii. Line 163. Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride ! They had no poet, and they died. Book iv. Ode
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 : God said, 'Let Newton be !' and all was light.
Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Nenton.
O thou ! whatever title please thine ear,
Book i. 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 In pleasing memory of all he stole.
Book i. Line 127. How index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of science by the tail.
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,
-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.
Book iv. Line 188.
Stuff the head
Book iv. Line 249.
* Making night hideous.
Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 4.
Led by my hand, he sauntered Europe round,
Book iv. Line 311. Judicious drank, and greatly daring dined.
Book iv. Line 318.
Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair,
E’en Palinurus nodded at the helm.
Book iv, Line 614.
Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires,
ELOISA TO ABELARD.
Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
Curse on all laws but those which love has made,
And love the offender yet detest the offence.
How happy is the blameless vestals lot!
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight ;
See my lips tremble and my eyeballs roll ;
He best can paint them who shall feel them most.
* Priests, tapers, temples, swam before my sight.
EDMUND SMITH. Phædra and Hippolytus.
Vital spark of heavenly flame,
The Dying Christian to his Soul.
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly!
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die ;
Ode on Solitude
What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade
To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 1.
Ibid. Line 51. And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances, and the public show.
Ibid. Line 57 How loved, how honoured once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ;