A Disciple of Chance: An Eighteenth Century Love Story

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Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1910 - England - 409 pages

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Page 155 - Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers ? O sweet content ! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed ? O punishment ! Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed To add to golden numbers, golden numbers ? O sweet content ! O sweet, O sweet content ! Work apace, apace, apace, apace ; Honest labour bears a lovely face ; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny ! Canst drink the waters of the crisped...
Page 20 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead; Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time; Year after year it steals, till all are fled. And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Page 317 - Time and chance are but a tide ; Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; Slighted love is sair to bide ; Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Shall I, like a fool, quoth he, For a haughty hizzie die ? She may gae to — France for me ! Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Page 141 - Fear made her Devils, and weak Hope her Gods; Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, Whose attributes were Rage, Revenge, or Lust ; Such as the souls of cowards might conceive, And, form'd like tyrants, tyrants would believe.
Page 154 - I'VE been roaming ! I've been roaming ! Where the meadow dew is sweet, And like a queen I'm coming With its pearls upon my feet.
Page 103 - My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred : And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it ! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance.
Page 31 - Into the horrors of the gloomy jail? Unpitied and unheard, where misery moans; Where Sickness pines; where Thirst and Hunger burn, And poor Misfortune feels the lash of Vice.
Page 111 - What harm with a fair one to toy and to kiss ? The greatest and gravest— a truce with grimace — Would do the same thing, were they in the same place. No age, no profession, no station is free ; To sovereign beauty mankind bends the knee ; That power, resistless, no strength can oppose, We all love a pretty girl — under the rose.
Page 1 - ... go on ; if yes we enter in. •Then to the hall I guide my steps, Amongst a crowd of brother skips, Drinking small-beer, and talking smut, And this fool's nonsense putting that fool's out. Whilst oaths and peals of laughter meet, And he who's loudest, is the greatest wit. But here amongst us the chief trade is To rail against our Lords and Ladies : To aggravate their smallest failings, To expose their faults with saucy railings.
Page 5 - Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools : they have need of 'em : wit, be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation ; and let father Time shake his glass.

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