The Works of Peter Pindar, Esq: In Three Volumes, Volume 1J. Walker, 1797 - Satire, English |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
artists bard Behold blest BOZZY brain call'd cats charming Cooks cry'd dame dare dead dear delight devil Doctor Doctor JOHNSON dread E'en ears ev'ry eyes face fair fame fellow folks fool form'd give grace grin hast hath head hear heart Heav'n honour JAMES BOSWELL JOHNSON King Lady look look'd Lord louse lyric MADAME PIOZZI maid Majesty merit midst Mistress Monarch mouth Muse mutton ne'er never night nose nymph o'er paint PETER phiz pigs PINDAR pleas'd Poet poor pow'r praise pray pretty Prince Princess Royal Queen quoth rage rais'd Reader rhyme rogues Royal Saint SECKER shav'd shave sighs sing SIR JOSEPH Sir JOSEPH BANKS smile song soul stare sublime supple-jack swear sweet Swelly tell thee things thou tongue tuneful twas vex'd vile ween what's Whilst WHITBREAD Windsor town wisdom wonder wondrous Zounds
Popular passages
Page 103 - No matter if the fellow be a knave, Provided that the razors shave; It certainly will be a monstrous prize.
Page 326 - Whitbread serious did declare, To make the Majesty of England stare, That he had butts enough, he knew, Placed side by side, to reach along to Kew: On which the King with wonder swiftly cried, 80 'What, if they reach to Kew then, side by side, What would they do, what, what, placed end to end?
Page 110 - ... set off on the same day, Peas in their shoes, to go and pray : But very different was their speed, I wot : One of the sinners galloped on, Swift as a bullet from a gun ; The other limped, as if he had been shot.
Page 103 - His muzzle, formed of opposition stuff, Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff; So kept it, laughing at the steel and suds. Hodge, in a passion, stretched his angry jaws, Vowing the direst vengeance, with clenched claws, On the vile cheat that sold the goods. " Razors ! A mean, confounded dog ! Not fit to scrape a hog...
Page 104 - I'm not a knave: As for the razors you have bought, Upon my soul I never thought That they would shave. " "Not think they'd shave!" quoth Hodge, with wondering eyes. And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; " What were they made for then, you dog?" he cries; " Made!" quoth the fellow, with a smile, — " TO SELL
Page 110 - A nostrum, famous in old popish times, For purifying souls that stunk with crimes; A sort of apostolic salt, Which popish parsons for its powers exalt, For keeping souls of sinners sweet, Just as our kitchen salt keeps meat.
Page 110 - 'tis no joke; My feet, once hard as any rock, Are now as soft as blubber. — Excuse me, Virgin Mary, that I swear; As for Loretto, I shall not get there; No! to the Devil my sinful soul must go, For hang me if I ha'n't lost every toe!
Page 103 - tis fun That people flay themselves out of their lives. You rascal! for an hour have I been grubbing, Giving my whiskers here a scrubbing, With razors just like oyster-knives. Sirrah! I tell you you're a knave, To cry up razors that can't shave!
Page 252 - Egotisms the World disgusted hears ; Then load with vanities no more our ears, Like some lone Puppy, yelping all night long, That tires the very echoes with his tongue. Yet, should it lie beyond the powers of Fate To stop thy pen, and still thy darling prate ; To live in solitude, oh ! be thy luck, A chattering Magpie on the Isle of Muck.
Page 401 - Till life be extinguish'd, from memory stray, Which it ought to review with delight? Upbraiding, shall Gratitude say with a tear, " That no longer I think of those charms Which gave to my bosom such rapture sincere, And faded at length in my arms...