Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin: Comprising the Celebrated Political & Satirical Poems, Parodies and Jeux-d'esprit of the Right Hon. George Canning, the Earl of Carlisle, Marquis Wellesley, the Right Hon. J. H. Frere, W. Gifford, Esq., the Rt. Hon. W. Pitt, G. Ellis, Esq., and Others |
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Common terms and phrases
ADAIR admire alluded Anti-Jacobin arms Ballynahinch band BEEF BEEFINGTON blood brave breast Britain British Burke's CANTO Casimere Cecilia CHARLEY Fox charms civil country's crimes delight Didactic Poem dost Duke e'er Earl Eclogues editor England English eyes fair fame feel fire France freedom French French Revolution FRIEND OF HUMANITY Gallia German Guillotine hail hand head heart honour hope HORACE HORNE TOOKE House imitation Jacobin John JOHN HORNE TOOKE King land laws LEPAUX letter liberty Lord Keppel LORD MOIRA Matilda metonymy morals Morning Chronicle Morning Post niversity of Gottingen Nymphs o'er paper patriot peace Pitt poet poetry political Pottingen praise present principles PUDD Puddingfield quĉ rage readers Rogero Rolliad satire says shore SIR ROBERT ADAIR Sirmio smile song soul spirit sweet thee thine thou translation truth verse virtue WAITER wave Whig
Popular passages
Page 205 - Association for promoting the Discovery of the Interior Parts of Africa...
Page 108 - And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurse ! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore : What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learn'd to melt at others
Page 107 - Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and torturing hour The bad affright, afflict the best ! Bound in thy adamantine chain, The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heavenly birth, And bade to form her infant mind.
Page 182 - Whene'er with haggard eyes I view This dungeon that I'm rotting in, I think of those companions true Who studied with me at the U — — niversity of Gottingen, — — niversity of Gottingen.
Page ix - Others appeared struck by the unwonted association of brilliant images; but every possible combination of ideas seemed always present to his mind, and he could at once produce whatever he desired. I was one of those who met to spend an evening in memory of Shakspeare, at the Boar's Head, Eastcheap. Many professed wits were present, but Pitt was the most amusing of the party, and the readiest and most apt in the required allusions.
Page 183 - This faded form ! this pallid hue! This blood my veins is clotting in, My years are many: they were few When first I entered at the U-niversity of Gottingen,— -niversity of Gottingen.
Page 142 - See these mournful spectres sweeping Ghastly o'er this hated wave, Whose wan cheeks are stain'd with weeping, These were English captains brave: Mark those numbers, pale and horrid, Those were once my sailors bold, Lo, each hangs his drooping forehead, While his dismal tale is told." "I, by twenty sail attended, Did this Spanish town affright; Nothing then its wealth defended But my orders not to fight : O ! that in this rolling ocean I had cast them with disdain, And obey'd my heart's warm motion,...
Page 174 - J one nymph her vows may give, And how two damsels with one lover live ! Delicious scenes ! — such scenes our bard displays, Which, crown'd with German, sue for British, praise. Slow are the steeds, that through Germania's roads With hempen rein the slumbering post-boy goads...
Page 188 - Pottingen, Professor of Civil Law ; and Matilda evidently returning his passion, the doctor, to prevent ill consequences, sends his daughter on a visit to her aunt in Wetteravia, where she becomes acquainted with Casimere, a Polish officer who happens to be quartered near her aunt's, and has several children by him. Roderic, Count of Saxe Weimar, a prince of...
Page 40 - The Foe advance. In firm array We'll rush o'er Albion's sands — Till the red sabre marks our way Amid their yielding bands ! Then, as they lie in Death's cold grasp, We'll cry, " OUR CHOICE is MADE ! " These hands the sabre's hilt shall clasp, " Your hearts shall feel the blade.