Peerage of England. ...

Front Cover
F. C. and J. Rivington, 1812

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Page 424 - ATTERBURY'S softer hour! How shin'd the Soul, unconquer'd in the Tow'r ! How can I PULT'NEY, CHESTERFIELD forget, While Roman Spirit charms, and Attic Wit: 85 ARGYLL, the State's whole Thunder born to wield, And shake alike the Senate and the Field: Or WYNDHAM, just to Freedom and the Throne, The Master of our Passions, and his own.
Page 156 - As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Page 156 - A Cherub's face, a reptile all the rest; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust; Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Page 447 - To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near, Here lies the friend most lov'd, the son most dear: Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief but when he dv'd.
Page 356 - He writing of Episcopacy and by the way treating of sects and schisms, left ye his vote, or rather now the...
Page 68 - Contrary in any wise notwithstanding although express mention of the true yearly value or certainty of the premises or any of them or of any other gifts or grants by Us or by any of Our progenitors or predecessors...
Page 79 - ... tis a soul like thine, a soul supreme, in each hard instance tried, above all pain, all passion and all pride, the rage of power, the blast of public breath, the lust of lucre and the dread of death.
Page 62 - CHARLES the Second by the Grace of God King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland Defender of the Faith &c.
Page 156 - What? that Thing of silk, "Sporus, that mere white Curd of Ass's milk? "Satire or Sense alas ! can Sporus feel ? "Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?" Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded wings, This painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings; Whose Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys, Yet Wit ne'er tastes, and Beauty ne'er enjoys, So well-bred Spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the Game they dare not bite.
Page 7 - I should make so foul a shipwreck of my conscience, or leave so great a blot to my poor posterity...

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