The Works of Dr. Jonathan Swift ... (Google eBook)

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G. Hamilton, J. Balfour, & L. Hunter, 1757
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Page 110 - 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...
Page 120 - When age must print a furrow'd trace On every feature of her face, Though you, and all your senseless tribe, Could Art, or Time, or Nature bribe, To make you look like Beauty's queen, And hold for ever at fifteen, No bloom of youth can ever blind The cracks and wrinkles of your mind ; All men of sense will pass your door, And crowd to Stella's at fourscore.
Page 238 - And had the Dean, in all the nation, No worthy friend, no poor relation ? So ready to do strangers good, Forgetting his own flesh and blood...
Page 349 - By G — , they don't signify this pinch of snuff. To give a young gentleman right education, The army's the only good school in the nation: My schoolmaster call'd me a dunce and a fool, But at cuffs I was always the cock of the school ; I never could take to my book for the blood o
Page 236 - His stomach too begins to fail ; Last year we thought him strong and hale ; But now he's quite another thing : I wish he may hold out till spring...
Page 233 - As Rochefoucault his maxims drew From nature, I believe them true : They argue no corrupted mind In him; the fault is in mankind. This maxim more than all the rest Is thought too base for human breast : ' In all distresses of our friends, We first consult our private ends ; While nature, kindly bent to ease us, Points out some circumstance to please us/ If this perhaps your patience move, Let reason and experience prove.
Page 241 - tis a shocking sight, And he's engaged to-morrow night; My Lady Club will take it ill, If he should fail her at quadrille. He loved the Dean— (I lead a heart,) But dearest friends, they say, must part. His time was come: he ran his race; We hope he's in a better place.
Page 41 - Love why do we one passion call, When 'tis a compound of them all? Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet, In all their equipages meet ; Where pleasures mix'd with pains appear, Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear ; Wherein his dignity and age Forbid Cadenus to engage.
Page 50 - what's this you tell us? I hope you don't believe me jealous! But yet, methinks, I feel it true, And really yours is budding too — Nay, — now I cannot stir my foot; It feels as if 'twere taking root.
Page 346 - You had like to have put it quite out of my head. ' Next day, to be sure, the captain will come At the head of his troop, with trumpet and drum. Now, madam, observe how he marches in state ; The man with the kettledrum enters the gate : Dub, dub, adub, dub.

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