The satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis, tr. into Engl. verse, by W. Gifford, with notes (Google eBook)

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1806
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Page 451 - Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years ; few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers, in the days of their pilgrimage.
Page 324 - When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound; But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough: this earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
Page 392 - Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the LORD.
Page 305 - We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good ; so find we profit, By losing of our prayers.
Page lxx - The general character of this translation will be given, when it is said to preserve the wit, but to want the dignity, of the original.
Page xv - In this humble and obscure state, poor beyond the common lot, yet flattering my ambition with day-dreams which, perhaps, would never have been realized, I was found in the twentieth year of my age by Mr. William Cookesley, a name never to be pronounced by me without veneration. The lamentable doggerel which I have already mentioned, and which had passed from mouth to mouth among people of my own degree, had by some accident or other reached his ear, and given him a curiosity to inquire after the...
Page 326 - Skill'd to reverse whate'er the gods create, And make that crooked which they fashion straight : Hard choice for man, to die or else to be That tottering, wretched, wrinkled thing you see. Age, then, we all prefer ; for age we pray, And travel on to life's last lingering day ; Then sinking slowly down from worse to worse, Find heaven's extorted boon our greatest curse.
Page xii - I possessed at this time but one book in the world : it was a treatise on algebra, given to me by a young woman, who had found it in a lodging-house. I considered it as a treasure; but it was a treasure locked up ; for it supposed the reader to be well acquainted with simple equation, and I knew nothing of the matter.
Page xiii - Sec. and what was of more importance, with books of geometry, and of the higher branches of algebra, which I cautiously concealed. Poetry, even at this time, was no amusement of mine: it was subservient to other purposes ; and I only had recourse to it, when I wanted money for my mathematical pursuits.
Page xlvii - Eupolis atque Cratinus Aristophanesque poetae, Atque alii, quorum comoedia prisca virorum est, Si quis erat dignus describi, quod malus ac fur, Quod moechus foret aut sicarius aut alioqui Famosus, multa cum libertate notabant.

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