The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson (Google eBook)

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Page 97 - Not thinking it is levee-day, And find his honour in a pound, Hemm'd by a triple circle round, Chequer'd with ribbons blue and green: How should I thrust myself between?
Page 133 - Tis an old maxim in the schools, That flattery's the food of fools; Yet now and then your men of wit Will condescend to take a bit.
Page 96 - I'VE often wish'd that I had clear For life six hundred pounds a year, A handsome house to lodge a friend, A river at my garden's end, A terrace-walk, and half a rood Of land set out to plant a wood. Well, now I have all this, and more, I ask not to increase my store ; But here a grievance seems to lie, All this is mine but till I die; I can't but think 'twould sound more clever, To me and to my heirs for ever.
Page 67 - Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs. Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient sits, While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits, And ever and anon with frightful din The leather sounds ; he trembles from within...
Page 55 - And often on each other gaz'd ; For both were frighten'd to the heart, And just began to cry, "What ar't!
Page 17 - And selling basely by retail. The wits, I mean the atheists of the age, Who fain would rule the pulpit, as they do the stage, Wondrous refiners of philosophy, Of morals and divinity, By the new modish system of reducing all to sense, Against all logic and concluding laws, Do own th' effects of Providence, And yet deny the cause.
Page 156 - Preferring his regard for me Before his credit, or his fee. Some formal visits, looks, and words, What mere humanity affords, I meet perhaps from three or four, From whom I once expected more ; Which those who tend the sick for pay Can act as decently as they : But no obliging tender friend To help at my approaching end. My life is now a burden grown To others, ere it be my own.
Page 156 - Removed from kind Arbuthnot's aid, Who knows his art but not his trade, Preferring his regard for me Before his credit or his fee. Some formal visits, looks, and words, What mere humanity affords, I meet, perhaps, from three or four From whom I once expected more, Which...
Page 132 - Whoe'er excels in what we prize, appears a hero in our eyes: ... each girl, when pleas'd with what is taught, will have the teacher in her thought.
Page 272 - And hills and dales, and woods and fields, And hay, and grass, and corn, it yields: All to your haggard brought so cheap in, Without the mowing or the reaping: A razor, though to say't I'm loth, Would shave you and your meadows both.

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