The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, 20. köide

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Samuel Johnson
C. Bathurst, 1779

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Page 114 - How needless if you knew us, were your fears ? Let Love have eyes, and Beauty will have ears. Our hearts are form'd, as you...
Page 195 - Ingenious Lister, were a picture drawn, With Cynthia's face, but with a neck like Brawn ; With wings of Turkey, and with feet of Calf, Though drawn by Kneller, it would make you laugh.
Page 104 - Gentiles' great apostle's name, With grace divine great Anna's seen to rise, An awful form, that glads a nation's eyes. Beneath her feet four mighty realms appear, And with due reverence pay their homage there) Britain and Ireland seem to owe her grace, And e'en wild India wears a smiling face.
Page 149 - Or change our natures, or reform your laws. Unhappy partner of my killing pain, Think what I feel the moment you complain. Each figh you utter wounds my tendereft part, So much my lips mifreprefent my heart.
Page 131 - Oile'us forc'd the Trojan maid, Yet all were punish'd for the brutal deed. A storm begins, the raging waves run high, The clouds look heavy, and benight the sky; Red sheets of light'ning o'er the seas are spread, Our tackling yields, and wrecks at last succeed.
Page 229 - I take imitation of an author, in their sense, to be an endeavour of a later poet to write like one who has written before him, on the same subject : that is, not to translate his words, or to be confined to his sense, but only to set him as a pattern, and to write, as he supposes that author would have done, had he lived in our age, and in our country.
Page 192 - Valentine accosts his boy with these lines, which would draw tears from any thing that is not marble : " Hang up thy wallet on that tree, And creep thou in this hollow place with me ; Let's here repose our wearied limbs till they more wearied be ! Bor.
Page 164 - Clafficks, as if we were never to get higher than our Tully or our Virgil. You tantalize me only when you tell me of the edition of a book by the ingenious Dr. Lifter, which you fay is a treatife D« Candimenth et Ogfoniit yeterumt " Of the Sauces and Soups of the Ancients,
Page 114 - Even churches are no sanctuaries now : There, golden idols all your vows receive, She is no goddess that has nought to give.
Page 189 - The Art of Cookery, in imitation of Horace's Art of Poetry, with some Letters to Dr. Lister...

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