Translations, imitations, epistles, epitaphs, &c

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J. French, 1777 - 195 pages
 

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Page 175 - Yet softer honours, and less noisy fame, Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham : In whom a race, for courage fam'd and art, Ends in the milder merit of the heart : And, chiefs or sages long to Britain given, Pays the last tribute of a saint to Heaven.
Page 171 - Poets lays, Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie Her works ; and dying, fears herself may die.
Page 172 - 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. Calmly he look'd on either life, and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear; From nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heaven that he had lived, and that he died.
Page 164 - Tis but the funeral of the former year. Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, And the gay conscience of a life well spent, Calm every thought, inspirit every grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face. Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear...
Page 149 - In some fair evening, on your elbow laid, You dream of triumphs in the rural shade; In pensive thought recall the fancy'd scene, See Coronations rise on ev'ry green, Before you pass th...
Page 166 - The scourge of pride, tho' sanctify'd or great, Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state; Yet soft his nature, tho' severe his lay, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Blest satyrist! who touch'd the mean so true, As show'd, vice had his hate and pity too. Blest courtier! who could king and country please, Yet sacred keep his friendship, and his Ease. Blest peer! his great forefathers...
Page 139 - Who, careless now of interest, fame, or fate, Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great ; Or deeming meanest what we greatest call, Beholds thee glorious only in thy fall.
Page 148 - To muse, and spill her solitary tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon...
Page 170 - Of fofteft manners, unaffefted mind, Lover of peace, and friend of human kind : Go, live ! for Heaven's eternal year is thine, Go, and exalt thy Moral to Divine. And thou, bleft Maid ! attendant on his doom, Penfive...
Page 139 - Dextrous, the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And pleas'd to 'fcape from Flattery to Wit.

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