The Works of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, Volume 6 (Google eBook)

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C. Bathurst, C. Davis, C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. Hodges, R. and J. Dodsley, and W. Bowyer., 1754
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Page 146 - Tis but the funeral of the former year. Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, And the gay conscience of a life well spent, Calm every thought, inspirit every grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face. Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear...
Page 147 - Tis love, not devotion, that turns up her eyes; Those stars of this world are too good for the skies. ' But Chloe so lively, so easy, so fair — Her wit so genteel, without art, without care; When she comes in my way, the motion, the pain, The leapings, the achings, return all again.
Page 302 - To fancy they could live a year ! I find you're but a stranger here. The Dean was famous in his time, And had a kind of knack at rhyme : His way of writing now is past ; The town has got a better taste. I keep no antiquated stuff, But spick and span I have enough.
Page 42 - He gathers all the parish there ; Points out the place of either yew, Here Baucis, there Philemon, grew ; Till once a parson of our town, To mend his barn, cut Baucis down ; At which, 'tis hard to be...
Page 42 - 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 263 - HERE continueth to rot The Body of FRANCIS CHARTRES, Who, with an INFLEXIBLE CONSTANCY, and INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY of Life, PERSISTED, In spite of AGE and INFIRMITIES, In the Practice of EVERY HUMAN VICE, Excepting PRODIGALITY and HYPOCRISY : His insatiable AVARICE exempted him from the first, His matchless IMPUDENCE from the second.
Page 21 - Cadenus many things had writ : Vanessa much esteem'd his wit, And call'd for his poetic works : Meantime the boy in secret lurks ; And, while the book was in her hand, The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierc'd the feeble volume through, And deep transfix'd her bosom too.
Page 37 - Having through all the village past, To a small cottage came at last, Where dwelt a good old honest ye'man, Call'd in the neighbourhood Philemon ; Who kindly did these saints invite In his poor hut to pass the night ; And then the hospitable...
Page 301 - 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 300 - I'm sorry; but we all must die. Indifference clad in Wisdom's Guise, All Fortitude of Mind supplies: For how can stony Bowels melt, In those who never Pity felt; When We are lash'd, They kiss the Rod; Resigning to the Will of God.

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