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Addison admirable alludes atque Augustus Ben Jonson Bishop Boileau Bolingbroke Bowles called character corruption court Cům Dialogue divine Donne Dryden Dunciad Earl Elijah Fenton Epistle eyes father flatterers folly fool genius give grace heart honest honour Horace Houyhnhnm humour imitation king Lady laugh learned letter libels lines live Lord Lord Bathurst Lord Bolingbroke Lord Cornbury Lucilius malč manner mihi minister Moličre moral Muse nature ne'er never NOTES numbers nunc o'er original passage person Pindaric pleased poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's praise quć Queen Quid quod racter rage rhyme ridicule Sappho satire says sense shew Sir Robert Walpole smile soul spirit style Swift tamen taste tell thee thing thou thought tibi translation truth Twickenham verse vice virtue Voltaire Warburton Warton Whig words writ write wrote
Page 177 - For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right...
Page 40 - 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 36 - Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of reposing age, With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep a while one parent from the sky!
Page 75 - Oh let me live my own, and die so too ! (To live and die is all I have to do:) Maintain a Poet's dignity and ease, And see what friends, and read what books I please : Above a Patron, tho...
Page 464 - So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song, As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along : But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride, That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have died. VOL. V. K THE BALANCE OF EUROPE. Now Europe balanced, neither side prevails ; For nothing's left in either of the scales.
Page 81 - Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt that stinks and stings...
Page 63 - 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, Alike...
Page 46 - He spins the slight, self-pleasing thread anew: Destroy his fib, or sophistry, in vain, The creature's at his dirty work again...
Page 388 - Yes, I am proud ; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me : Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, Yet touched and shamed by ridicule alone. O sacred weapon ! left for Truth's defence, Sole dread of folly, vice, and insolence ! To all but Heaven-directed hands denied, The Muse may give thee, but the gods must guide.