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abuse Alluding ancient Aristarchus bard Bavius behold booksellers Bowles called cause Chaos character Cibber Codrus Concanen Court Curl Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness Dunce Dunciad edition Epic Epigram Eridanus Essay on Criticism ev'ry eyes folly fool former Edd friends genius gentleman Gildon give Goddess hath head Heav'n Hero Homer honour Ibid Iliad IMITATIONS jEneid King Laureate learned Leonard Welsted Letter Lewis Theobald lines Lord manner Milton Mist's Journal moral Muse nature never notes o'er occasion octavo Oldmixon Ovid passage person philosopher poem poet Poet Laureate poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise Pref Prince printed published Queen Quintilian reader REMARKS ridicule saith satire says Scriblerus Shakespear shew sons soul Swift taste thee Theobald thing thou thought thro Tibbald tion translation true truth verses Virg Virgil virtue Wakefield Warburton Warton Welsted whole words writ writer
Page 12 - A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ ; Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind ; Nor lose, for that malignant dull delight, The generous pleasure to be charm'd with wit.
Page 341 - Night primaeval and of Chaos old ! Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay, And all its varying rainbows die away. Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires. As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain ; As Argus
Page 345 - Religion blushing veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word; Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall, And universal Darkness buries all.
Page 298 - The critic Eye, that microscope of Wit, Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit...
Page 303 - Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement, ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind. Then take him to develop, if you can, And hew the block off, and get out the man. 270 But wherefore waste I words? I see advance Whore, pupil, and laced governor from France. Walker! our hat' nor more he deigned to say, But, stern as Ajax
Page 249 - Immortal Rich! how calm he sits at ease 'Mid snows of paper, and fierce hail of pease; And proud his Mistress' orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.
Page 249 - I turn my ravish'd eyes, gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, poetic fields encompass me around, and still I seem to tread on classic ground; for here the Muse so oft her harp has strung, that not a mountain rears its head unsung, renown'd in verse each shady thicket grows, and every stream in heavenly numbers flows.
Page 40 - The observations follow one another like those in Horace's Art of Poetry, without that methodical regularity which would have been requisite in a prose author.
Page 189 - Here strip, my children! here at once leap in, Here prove who best can dash through thick and thin, And who the most in love of dirt excel, Or dark dexterity of groping well.
Page 307 - To lands of singing, or of dancing slaves, Love-whispering woods, and lute-resounding waves. But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the lion of the deeps; Where, eased of fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth eunuch and enamour'd swain.