What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Acis and Galatea Ambrose Philips Arbuthnot artless Barnstaple Bath Beggar's Opera breast cockney Corresp court D'Ye Call dafs dear death Dichter Duchess of Queensberry Duke Epistle erklärt von Oberlehrer Ernst Regel Fabeln Fables first fortune friend Gay und Pope Gay's Gays Gedichte gespielt Goldsmith good Grammatik great grofse Hanmer happy Hartmann von Aue heifst Herausgegeben und erklärt Herausgegeben von Ernst Hofe Hogarth Humoristen italienischen Oper Jahre John Gay kind knew know Königin Anna Lady laughter Lectures Letter Life little London Lord Lord Bolingbroke love loved Macheath made maid make Marlborough Memoir merry Mohocks never o'er once Pastoral Poems poetischen poets Polly Pope wrote Pope's pretty Princess Princess of Wales Prinzessin von Wales Prior Rural Sports Satire says Schäfergedicht schliefslich seas were roaring Shepherd's Week Spenser Stück sweet Swift Thackeray thing thought three time Tory Trivia vols Werke Whig Wife Works year
Page 49 - Dr. Swift had been observing once to Mr. Gay, what an odd pretty sort of a thing a Newgate pastoral might make. Gay was inclined to try at such a thing for some time ; but afterwards thought it would be better to write a comedy on the same plan. This was what gave rise to the
Page 46 - I have often had it in my head to put it into yours, that you ought to have some great work in scheme, which may take up seven years to finish, besides two or three under-ones that may add another thousand pounds to your stock, and then I shall be in less pain about you. I know you can find dinners, but you love twelvepenny coaches too well, without considering that the interest of a whole thousand pounds brings you but half a crown a day...
Page 46 - Good God ! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage ? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part. God keep those we have left ! few are worth praying for, and one's self the least of all.
Page 38 - tis but gratitude in us to encourage poetical merit wherever we find it. The muses, contrary to all other ladies, pay no distinction to dress, and never partially mistake the pertness of embroidery for wit, nor the modesty of want for dulness.
Page 50 - John had for several months borne the labour of the day in the same field with Sarah ; when she milked, it was his morning and evening charge to bring the cows to her pail. Their love was the talk, but not the scandal, of the whole neighbourhood, for all they aimed at was the blameless possession of each other in marriage. It was but this very morning that he had obtained her parents' consent, and it was but till the next week that they were to wait to be happy.
Page 44 - During your journeys, I knew not whither to aim a letter after you ; that was a sort of shooting flying. Add to this the demand Homer had upon me, to write fifty verses a day, besides learned notes, all which are at a conclusion for this year.
Page 45 - I add a word of advice in the poetical way. Write something on the King, or Prince, or Princess. On whatsoever foot you may be with the court, this can do no harm. I shall never know where to end, and am confounded in the many things I have to say to you, though they all amount but to this, that I am, entirely, as ever, " Your," &c. Gay took the advice " in the poetical way," and published " An Epistle to a Lady, occasioned by the arrival of her Koyal Highness the Princess of Wales.
Page 36 - ... the author has extracted an essence of refinement from the dregs of human life, and turns its very dross into gold. The scenes, characters, and incidents are, in themselves, of the lowest and most disgusting kind : but, by the sentiments and reflections which are put into the mouths of highwaymen, turnkeys, their mistresses, wives, or daughters, he has converted this motley group into a set of fine gentlemen and ladies, satirists and philosophers. He has also effected this transformation without...
Page 50 - I have just passed part of this summer at an old romantic seat of my Lord Harcourt's, which he lent me. It overlooks a common field, where, under the shade of a haycock, sat two lovers, as constant as ever were found in Romance, beneath a spreading beech. The name of the one (let it sound as it will) was John Hewet ; of the other, Sarah Drew. John was a well-set man about five and twenty, Sarah a brown woman of eighteen.