A Commonplace Book of Epigrams

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W. Tegg, 1872 - Epigrams - 247 pages
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Page 6 - Live while you live, the Epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day. Live while you live, the sacred Preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies.
Page 79 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Page 71 - THREE poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpassed; The next in majesty; in both the last. The force of nature could no further go ; To make a third, she joined the former two.
Page 222 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Page 79 - Shakspearc and Milton, like gods in the fight, Have put their whole drama and epic to flight ; In satires, epistles, and odes, would they cope. Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope ; And Johnson, well arm'd like a hero of yore, Has beat forty French, \ and will beat forty more...
Page 5 - On parent knees, a naked new-born child Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled ; So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep, Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep.
Page 144 - But now, her wealth and finery fled, Her hangers-on cut short all; The doctors found, when she was dead, — Her last disorder mortal. Let us lament, in sorrow sore, For Kent Street well may say, That had she lived a twelvemonth more — She had not died to-day.
Page 59 - In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen, about thee, There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
Page 154 - What can the cause be, when the king hath given His poet sack, the household will not pay? Are they so scanted in their store? — or driven For want of knowing the poet, to say him nay? Well, they should know him, would the king but grant His poet leave to sing his household true...
Page 95 - King George in a fright, Lest Gibbon should write The story of Britain's disgrace, Thought no means more sure His pen to secure, Than to give the historian a place.

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