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admire aetas Alluding atque Bavius beauty Ben Johnson cliens Court Courtier dicere divine Dunciad e'er Earl Epistle ev'n ev'ry fame fool Gabiis Genius ginal give Glory grace grave heart Heav'n honest honour Horace humourous hurt imitation John Barnard King Knave laugh learn'd Libels lise live Lord lov'd ludicra mihi Mimnermus Muse ne'er neque never nihil nisi noble Notes numbers nunc o'er Original Panegyric Pindar pleas'd Poet Poet's poor Pope popish plot Pow'r praise Prince proud quae quam quia quid quis quod racter recreare recte rhyme rich ridicule Sappho Satire SATIRE IV Sejanus sense sibi sirst song soul spirit swear tamen Taste tell thing thou thought thro tibi tongue Truth verse verum Vice Virtue Whig words writ write
Seite 18 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Seite 51 - Hear this, and tremble ! you who 'scape the laws. Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world, in credit, to his grave.
Seite 243 - Before her dance; behind her crawl the Old! See thronging Millions to the Pagod run, And offer Country, Parent, Wife, or Son! Hear her black Trumpet thro' the Land proclaim, That "Not to be corrupted is the Shame.
Seite 19 - d by ev'ry quill ; Fed with soft dedication all day long, Horace and he went hand in hand in song.
Seite 234 - Seen him, uncumber'd with the Venal tribe, Smile without Art, and win without a Bribe. Would he oblige me ? let me only find, He does not think me what he thinks mankind.
Seite 6 - They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.
Seite 30 - Bestia's from the throne. Born to no pride, inheriting no strife, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious through his age. No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an oath, nor hazarded a lie.
Seite 244 - Are what ten thousand envy and adore : All, all look up with reverential awe, At crimes that 'scape or triumph o'er the law ; While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry : Nothing is sacred now but villainy.
Seite 157 - Besides, a fate attends on all I write, That when I aim at praise they say I bite. A vile encomium doubly ridicules : There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools. If true, a woful likeness ; and, if lies, ' Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise.