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beauty beneath bids bless blood boast breast bright Britain cause charms crown dare dark death deep distant divine dreadful earth eternal eyes face fair fall fame fate fear fire flame fool genius give glorious glory grace hand head hear heart heaven honour human immortal kind kings leave less light live look lord mankind mean mighty mind muse nature night o'er once pain passion peace pleasure praise pride proud rage raise reason reigns rise round sacred satire scene sense shine sight skies smile soul sound spread stand strong sweet tears thee theme things thou thought thousand thro throne trembling triumph true truth turn virtue whole wind wisdom wise write
Page 151 - The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young. The jolly god in triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums ; Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face : Now give the hautboys breath ; he comes, he comes.
Page 106 - O sacred solitude ; divine retreat ! Choice of the prudent ! envy of the great ! By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid : The genuine offspring of her lov'd embrace, (Strangers on earth,) are innocence and peace. There from the ways of men laid safe ashore, We smile to hear the distant tempest roar; There, bless'd with health, with bus'ness unperplex'd, This life we relish, and ensure the next.
Page 136 - How commentators each dark passage shun, And hold their farthing candle to the sun.
Page 114 - O how your beating breast a mistress warms, Who looks through spectacles to see your charms ! While rival undertakers hover round, And with his spade the sexton marks the ground, Intent not on her own, but others' doom, She plans new conquests, and defrauds the tomb.
Page 113 - Tis greatly wise to know, before we 're told, The melancholy news, that we grow old. Autumnal Lyce carries in her face Memento mori to each public place. O how your beating breast a mistress warms, Who looks through spectacles to see your...
Page 74 - As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, So wit is by politeness sharpest set : Their want of edge from their offence is seen ; Both pain us least when exquisitely keen.
Page 129 - Ye men of deep researches, say, whence springs This daring character in timorous things ? Who start at feathers, from an insect fly ; A match for nothing — but the Deity. But, not to wrong the fair, the Muse must own 415 In this pursuit they court not Fame alone ; But join to that a more substantial view, " From thinking free, to be free agents too.
Page 63 - O'er globes, and sceptres, now on thrones it swells ; Now, trims the midnight lamp in college cells : 'Tis tory, whig ; it plots, prays, preaches, pleads, Harangues in senates, squeaks in masquerades.
Page 29 - Gave names to nations ; or fam'd empires join'd ; Who rais'd the vale, and laid the mountain low ; And taught obedient rivers where to flow ; Who with vast fleets, as with a mighty chain, Could bind the madness of the roaring main : All lost ? all undistinguish'd ? no where found ? How will this truth in Bourbon's palace sound ? That hour, on which the...