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admire bards Bavius Bless'd Book Briton charms court coxcomb cry’d dear desp'rate divine DORSET Dryden dy’d Earl of Oxford ease Envy Epistle ev'ry ev’n ev’ry eyes fair fame fate father feast folly fools fortune gen’rous gentle gold grace groat heart Heav'n honest honour Horace IMITATED int’rest kings knave laugh laws learn’d learned live Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Fanny lov’d marble mighty mind Muse ne'er never numbers º º o'er once passion peace peer pensive Pindaric pleas'd poet poet’s poor Pope pow'r praise pride proud rage rhyme rich rise round sacred Sappho Satire scorn serv’d shine sigh sing Smil smile sober soft song soul Swift taste tell thee thou thought thro Town truth Twas verse virtue Westminster-Abbey whate'er Whig wife word worm write
第 10 頁 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
第 16 頁 - A cherub's face, a reptile all the rest ; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust, Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
第 13 頁 - 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' I condescend Sometimes to call a minister my friend.
第 4 頁 - And curses wit, and poetry, and Pope. Friend to my life! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?
第 15 頁 - Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings; Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
第 30 頁 - There my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place: There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
第 6 頁 - Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door, Sir, let me see your works and you no more. *Tis sung, when Midas...
第 3 頁 - A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer, A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross!