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abused admire Ambrose Philips ancient bard Bavius Behold Bishop bless'd called character Charles Gildon Cibber Concanen court cries Curll Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'en epic EPISTLE Eridanus Essay on Criticism eyes fame fate folly fool genius Gildon goddess grace hath head heaven hero Homer honour Horace Iliad IMITATIONS James Moore JOHN DENNIS king knave labour Laureate learned LEONARD WELSTED Letter LEWIS THEOBALD libel live Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Hervey lov'd Mist's Journal moral muse ne'er never numbers o'er octavo once Ovid person pleas'd poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's praise prince printed prose proud queen REMARKS rhyme saith satire Scriblerus sing song soul sure Swift thee Theobald things thou translation truth verse VIRG Virgil virtue Welsted Whig wings words writ write youth
Page 14 - Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar Toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, 320 In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Page 7 - 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? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Page 108 - Vice is undone, if she forgets her birth, And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth: But 'tis the fall degrades her to a whore; Let...
Page 17 - Born to no pride, inheriting no strife, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious through his age.
Page 3 - And to be grave, exceeds all power of face. I sit with sad civility, I read With honest anguish, and an aching head ; And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, This saving counsel,
Page 2 - SHUT, shut the door, good John ! fatigued, 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, 5 They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Page 360 - And all its varying Rain-bows 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 141 - Berkshire, •This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man : A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great : Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace.
Page 36 - How's the wind ?' ' Whose chariot's that we left behind ?' Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the country signs; Or, ' Have you nothing new to-day ' From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay ?' Such tattle often entertains My lord and me as far as Staines, As once a week we travel down To Windsor, and again to town, Where all that passes inter nos Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross.