Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws Fable x. The Spider and the Bee. But from the hoop's bewitching round, Ibid. Time still, as he flies, adds increase to her truth, 'T is now the summer of your youth: time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them. The Gamester. Act iii. Sc. 4. WILLIAM SHENSTONE. 1714-1763. HO'ER has travelled life's dull round, WHOE Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.* Written on the Window of an Inn. So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return. A Pastoral. Parti. I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed. Ibid. Part ii. * There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced, as by a good tavern or inn.-JOHNSON. Boswell's Life (1766). Archbishop Leighton used often to say, that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn. For seldom shall she hear a tale So sad, so tender, and so true. Femmy Dawson. Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, The Schoolmistress. St. 5. Pun-provoking thyme. Ibid. St. 11. A little bench of heedless bishops here, St. 28. JOHN PHILIPS. 1676-1708. MY galligaskins, that have long withstood The winter's fury and encroaching frosts, The Splendid Shilling. Line 121. MARK AKENSIDE. 1721-1770. HE man forget not, though in rags he lies, TH And know the mortal through a crown's disguise. DAVID GARRICK. 1716-1779. 'HEIR cause I plead,—plead it in heart and mind ; THEI A fellow feeling makes one wondrous kind.* Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1766, 10th June. Let others hail the rising sun : I bow to that whose race is run. On the Death of Mr. Pelham. Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks. Epigram on Goldsmith's Retaliation. ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE. AH, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain ! Where once my careless childhood strayed, They hear a voice in every wind, The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast. I would help others, out of a fellow-feeling.--BURTON. Anatomy of Melancholy; Democritus to the Reader. Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco. VIRGIL. Eneid, Lib. i. 630. P Alas! regardless of their doom, Nor sense have they of ills to come, And moody madness laughing wild, To each his sufferings: all are men, The tender for another's pain, Since sorrow never comes too late, Where ignorance is bliss, 'T is folly to be wise.* THE PROGRESS OF POESY. O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move Ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears. The living throne, the sapphire blaze, * From ignorance our comfort flows, The only wretched are the wise. Part iii. St. 1. PRIOR. To the Hon. Charles Montague. He that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow. Ecclesiastes i. 18. He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. Part iii. St. 2. Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.* Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Part ii. St. 3. Beneath the good how far-but far above the Great. THE BARD. Part iii. St. 3. Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air.+ Parti. St. 2. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes; Give ample room, and verge enough, § * Words that weep and tears that speak. heart. Parti. St. 3. Part ii. St. 1. COWLEY. The Prophet. † An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair, COWLEY. Davideis. Book ii. Line 102. Paradise Lost. Booki. Line 536. As dear to me as are the ruddy drops Julius Cæsar. Act ii. Sc. 1. Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life; OTWAY. Venice Preserved. Act v. § I have a soul that like an ample shield, DRYDEN. Don Sebastian. Acti. Sc. 1. |