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Page 250 - ... till then obscure, became all at once the favourite of the town ; her pictures were engraved, and sold in great numbers ; her life written; books of letters and verses to her published; and pamphlets made even of her sayings and jests. Furthermore, it drove out of England, for that season, the Italian Opera, which had carried all before it for ten years.
Page 99 - There motley Images her fancy strike, Figures ill pair'd, and Similies unlike. She sees a Mob of Metaphors advance, Pleas'd with the madness of the mazy dance: How Tragedy and Comedy embrace; How Farce and Epic get a jumbled race; How Time himself stands still at her command, Realms shift their place, and Ocean turns to land.
Page 334 - Light dies before thy uncreating word : Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all.
Page 383 - Where nameless somethings in their causes sleep, 'Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day, Call forth each mass, a poem, or a play; How hints, like spawn, scarce quick in embryo lie, How new-born nonsense first is taught to cry ; Maggots half-form'd in rhyme exactly meet, And learn to crawl upon poetic feet.
Page 333 - See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head! Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly! In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die, Religion blushing veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires.
Page 299 - But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the Lion of the Deeps; Where, eas'd of Fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth Eunuch and enamour'd swain.
Page 27 - ... or science, which have not been touched upon by others ; we have little else left us but to represent the common sense of mankind in more strong, more beautiful, or more uncommon lights. If a reader examines Horace's Art of Poetry...
Page 263 - Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven ; All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
Page 27 - Poetry, he will find but few precepts in it which he may not meet with in Aristotle, and which were not commonly known by all the poets of the Augustan age. His way of expressing and applying them, not his invention of them, is what we are chiefly to admire.