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Page xxx - ... delivered. As for those which are the most known, and the most received, they are placed in so beautiful a light, and illustrated with such apt allusions, that they have in them all the graces of novelty, and make the reader, who was before acquainted with them, still more convinced of their truth and solidity.
Page xxx - And here give me leave to mention what Monsieur Boileau has so very well enlarged upon in the preface to his works, that wit and fine writing doth not consist so much in advancing things that are new, as in giving things that are known an agreeable turn.
Page 63 - How Time himself stands still at her command, Realms shift their place, and Ocean turns to land. Here gay Description...
Page 144 - Thou, only thou, directing all our way! To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs, Pours at great Bourbon's feet her silken sons; Or Tyber, now no longer Roman, rolls Vain of...
Page 142 - For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head With all such reading as was never read : For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, And write about it, goddess, and about it : So spins the silkworm small its slender store, And labours till it clouds itself all o'er.
Page 143 - Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement, ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind : Then take him to develop, if you can, And hew the block off, and get out the man. But wherefore waste I words ? I see advance Whore, pupil, and lac'd governor from France."12 Walker ! our hat ' nor more he deign'd to say, But stern as Ajax
Page 142 - The critic eye, that microscope of wit, Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit : How parts relate to parts, or they to whole, The body's harmony, the beaming soul, Are things which Kuster, Burman, Wasse shall see, When man's whole frame is obvious to a flea.
Page 60 - Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where o'er the gates, by his fam'd father's hand Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand; One Cell there is, conceal'd from vulgar eye, The Cave of Poverty and Poetry. Keen, hollow winds howl thro' the bleak recess, Emblem of Music caus'd by Emptiness.
Page 145 - ... 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. Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round, And gather'd ev'ry Vice on Christian ground...
Page 141 - Thy mighty scholiast, whose unwearied pains Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains. Turn what they will to verse, their toil is vain, Critics like me shall make it prose again. Roman and Greek grammarians ! know your better Author of something yet more great than letter ; While towering o'er your alphabet, like Saul, Stands our Digamma, and o'ertops them all.