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Page 140 - Here let those reign, whom pensions can incite To vote a patriot black, a courtier white ; Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, And plead for * pirates in the face of day ; With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, And lend a lie the confidence of truth.
Page 18 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Page 141 - If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies; And they are fools who roam : The world has nothing to bestow ; From our own selves our joys must flow, And that dear hut, our home.
Page 97 - France the mimick, and of Spain the prey. All that at home no more can beg or fteal, Or like a gibbet better than a wheel ; Hifs'd from the ftage, or hooted from the- court, Their air, their drefs, their politicks, import ; 15 Obfequious, artful, voluble, and gay, On Britain's fond credulity they prey.
Page 139 - But all whom hunger spares, with age decay: Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire, And now a rabble rages, now a fire; Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, And here the fell attorney prowls for prey; Here falling houses thunder on your head, And here a female atheist talks you dead.
Page 7 - prentice from his master's door Had par'd the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor. Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dextrous airs, Prepar'd to scrub the entry and the stairs.
Page 140 - Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, Who sleeps on brambles till he kills his man ; Some frolic drunkard, reeling from a feast, Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest.
Page 98 - Your tafte in fnuff, your judgment in a whore; Can Balbo's eloquence applaud, and fwear He gropes his breeches with a monarch's air. For arts like thefe preferr'd, admir'd, carefs'd, They firft invade your table, then your breaft; * Explore your fecrets with infidious art, Watch the weak hour, and ranfack all the heart; Then foon your ill-plac'd confidence repay, Commence your lords, and govern or betray.
Page 140 - But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold; Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, The groom retails the favours of his lord. But hark! th...