Select epigrams, Volume 2

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Page 164 - In merry old England it once was a rule, The King had his Poet, and also his Fool : But now we're so frugal, I'd have you to know it, That Cibber can serve both for Fool and for Poet.
Page 70 - At last resolv'd his potent foe to awe, And guard his right, by statute, and by law ! A suit in Chancery the wretch begun, -\ Nine happy terms through bill and answer run, > Obtain'd his cause, had costs, and was undone.
Page 139 - Duke was just come to town — His station despising, unaw'd by the place, He flies from his God to attend on his Grace. To the Court it was fitter to pay his devotion, Since God had no hand in his Lordship's promotion.
Page 124 - Beneath this stone lies Katherine Gray, Changed from a busy life to lifeless clay; By earth and clay she got her pelf, And now she's turned to earth herself. Ye weeping friends, let me advise,— Abate your grief, and dry your eyes; For what avails a flood of tears? Who knows but in a run of years, In some tall pitcher or broad pan, She in her shop may be again...
Page 133 - Thro' every road of human life. Fair wifdom regulates the bar, And peace concludes the wordy war : At home aufpicious mortals find Serene tranquillity of mind ; All-beauteous nature decks the plain, And merchants plough for gold the main : Refpeft arifes from our ftore, Security from being poor : More joys the bands of hymen give ; Th...
Page 143 - Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead, Through which the living Homer begged his bread.
Page 74 - Lefliia firft I faw fo heavenly fair, With eyes fo bright, and with that awful air, I thought my heart, which durft fo high afpire, As bold as his who fnatch'd ceeleftial fire.
Page 42 - I NEVER knew a sprightly fair That was not dear to me; And freely I my heart could share With every one I see. It is not this or that alone On whom my choice would fall: I do not more incline to one Than I incline to all. The circle's bounding line are they; Its centre is my heart; My ready love, the equal ray That flows to every part.
Page 105 - Whilst in the dark on thy soft hand I hung, And heard the tempting Siren in thy tongue, What flames, what darts, what anguish I endur'd ! But when the candle enter'd I was cur'd.
Page 45 - The next had all the cunning of a Scot ; The third invention, genius — nay, what not? Fraud, now exhausted, only could dispense To her fourth son their threefold impudence.

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