Satires and Epistles |
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Page 26
... king ) His very minister who spy'd them first , Some say his queen , was forc'd to speak , or burst . And is not ... kings ; Keep close to ears , and those let asses prick , ' Tis nothing - P . Nothing ? if they bite and kick ? Out with ...
... king ) His very minister who spy'd them first , Some say his queen , was forc'd to speak , or burst . And is not ... kings ; Keep close to ears , and those let asses prick , ' Tis nothing - P . Nothing ? if they bite and kick ? Out with ...
Page 34
... kings , he held a shame , And thought a lye in verse or prose the same , That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long , But stoop'd to truth , and moraliz'd his song : That not for fame , but virtue's better end , He stood the furious foe ...
... kings , he held a shame , And thought a lye in verse or prose the same , That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long , But stoop'd to truth , and moraliz'd his song : That not for fame , but virtue's better end , He stood the furious foe ...
Page 36
... kings shall know less joy than I. O friend ! may each domestic bliss be thine ! Be no unpleasing melancholy mine : Me , let the tender office long engage , To rock the cradle of reposing age , With lenient arts extend a mother's breath ...
... kings shall know less joy than I. O friend ! may each domestic bliss be thine ! Be no unpleasing melancholy mine : Me , let the tender office long engage , To rock the cradle of reposing age , With lenient arts extend a mother's breath ...
Page 52
... king . ' True , conscious honour is to feel no sin , He's armed without that's innocent within ; Be this thy screen , and this thy wall of brass ; Compar'd to this a minister's an ass . And say , to which shall our applause belong ...
... king . ' True , conscious honour is to feel no sin , He's armed without that's innocent within ; Be this thy screen , and this thy wall of brass ; Compar'd to this a minister's an ass . And say , to which shall our applause belong ...
Page 53
... king's a lion , at the least The people are a many - headed beast : Can they direct what measures to pursue , Who know themselves so little what to do ? Alike in nothing but one lust of gold , Just half the land would buy , and half be ...
... king's a lion , at the least The people are a many - headed beast : Can they direct what measures to pursue , Who know themselves so little what to do ? Alike in nothing but one lust of gold , Just half the land would buy , and half be ...
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Common terms and phrases
Addison allusion Arbuthnot authors Bavius Ben Jonson Bishop Blackmore Boileau Bolingbroke Budgel Carruthers character Church Cibber court died Dryden Duke Dunciad ears Edward Wortley Montagu England English Epil Essay ev'n ev'ry eyes fame father fools genius George George Bubb Dodington George II grace heart heav'n honour Imitation of Horace Johnson Juvenal king knave Lady laugh learned letters libeller live Lord Bolingbroke Lord Fanny Lord Hervey lov'd Matthew Tindal moral muse ne'er never noble numbers o'er Parnassian party Pindaric pleas'd poems poet poet's poetical poetry poor Pope Pope's satire pow'r praise Prince Prol Queen quincunx rhyme Satires and Epistles satirist says Sir Robert Sir Robert Walpole sneer song soul Spence Swift taste thou thought thro Tory truth Twickenham verse vice virtue Walpole Warburton's Warton Whig wife write
Popular passages
Page 30 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer ; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike...
Page 23 - tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land. What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.
Page 30 - Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he ? What though my name stood rubric on the walls Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals ? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers...
Page 33 - Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies. His wit all see-saw, between that and this, « Now high, now low, now master .up, now miss, And he himself one vile Antithesis.
Page 33 - That Fop, whose pride affects a patron's name, Yet absent, wounds an author's honest fame: Who can your merit selfishly approve, And show the sense of it without the love...
Page 145 - I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, "Would he ' had blotted a thousand," which they thought a malevolent speech.
Page 27 - Say, for my comfort, languishing in bed, 'Just so immortal Maro held his head'; And, when I die, be sure you let me know Great Homer died three thousand years ago. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Dipp'd me in ink, my parents', or my own?
Page 33 - Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys: So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Page 119 - London, much inhabited by writers of small histories, dictionaries, and temporary poems; whence any mean production is called Grub-street" — , " lexicographer, a writer of dictionaries, a harmless drudge.
Page 144 - whispers through the trees": If crystal streams "with pleasing murmurs creep," The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "sleep": Then, at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.