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afterwards alluded Atossa beauty Bishop Buckingham character Charles charms church Cobham Countess Court cried daughter death died Dodington Dryden Duchess Duchess of Marlborough Duke Duke of Chandos Dunciad e'en Earl edition England Epistle eyes fame favour fool fortune gardens George grace Halifax heart honest honour Horace Horace Walpole James Moore Smythe John King knave Lady Mary Wortley letter lines live Lord Bathurst Lord Hervey Marchmont Marlborough Mary Wortley Montagu minister Muse ne'er never noble numbers o'er once passion peer poem poet poet's poor Pope Pope's portrait praise Prince proud Pulteney Queen Queen Caroline rhyme rich Sappho satire says scene Sir Gilbert Heathcote Sir Robert Sir Robert Walpole soul Stowe Swift taste tell thee things thou thought town Twas verse vice virtue Walpole Warburton Warton Whig wife Wortley Montagu write
Page 76 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Page 117 - Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings; 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 105 - I said; Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages! nay '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.
Page 67 - Young man, there is America, which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men and uncouth manners, yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world.
Page 87 - His gardens next your admiration call, On every side you look, behold the wall! No pleasing intricacies intervene, No artful wildness to perplex the scene; Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other.
Page 59 - Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow ? From the dry rock who bade the waters flow ? Not to the skies in useless columns tost...
Page 91 - Flood contain, The Mole projected break the roaring Main; Back to his bounds their subject Sea command, And roll obedient Rivers thro' the Land: These Honours, Peace to happy Britain brings, These are Imperial Works, and worthy Kings.
Page 132 - There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Page 112 - While wits and templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — 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...