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admir'd admire appear arm'd arms Atrides Babylon beauteous beauty betray'd blest blood blush boast breast bright charms command Dædalus dare delight design'd despair disdain divine dost dreadful dull e'er EARL OF ROSCOMMON earth Eclogue ev'n eyes fair faithless fam'd fame fatal fate faults fear flame flow fond fool form'd fury grace guilty hand happy heart heaven honour hope Hydaspes injur'd innocence joys kind labour lewd light lofty lovers lustre lyre maid Medea Medes mind mourn Muse Nature ne'er night nobler numbers nymph o'er pain passion Patroclus Peleus PINDARIC pleas'd pleasure poet poison'd Pompey praise pride race rage rais'd raptures sacred scorn Scythian shades shew sield sierce sighs sight Silenus sinart sinile sirst song soul STREPHON tears Telephus tender thee things thou thought toils triumph verse view'd virtues voice Whilst wine wise womb wretched write youth
Page 251 - Let not those agonies be vain. Thou whom avenging powers obey, Cancel my debt (too great to pay) Before the sad accounting day.
Page 337 - ... deny'd ? And may not I have leave impartially To search and censure Dryden's works, and try If those gross faults his choice pen doth commit Proceed from want of judgment, or of wit ? Or if his lumpish fancy does refuse Spirit and grace to his loose slattern Muse ? Five hundred verses every morning writ, Prove him no more a poet than a wit...
Page 219 - Comment that your Care can find, Some here, some there, may hit the Poet's Mind; Yet be not blindly guided by the Throng; The Multitude is always in the Wrong.
Page 318 - ... take care Upon this point, not to be too severe. Perhaps my muse were fitter for this part, For I profess I can be very smart On wit, which I abhor with all my heart.
Page 336 - Dryden in vain tried this nice way of wit; For he, to be a tearing blade, thought fit To give the ladies a dry bawdy bob ; And thus he got the name of Poet Squab. But to be just, 'twill to his praise be found, His excellencies more than faults abound ; Nor dare I from his sacred temples tear The laurel, which he best deserves to wear.
Page 317 - Then old Age, and Experience, hand in hand, Lead him to Death, and make him understand, After a search so painful, and so long, That all his Life he has been in the wrong.
Page 294 - That tears my fixed heart from my love. When, wearied with a world of woe, To thy safe bosom I retire Where love and peace and truth does flow, May I contented there expire, Lest, once more wandering from that Heaven, I fall on some base heart unblest, Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven, And lose my everlasting rest.
Page 326 - Ere time and place were, time and place were not, When primitive Nothing something straight begot, Then all proceeded from the great united — What.