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Page 14 - Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar Toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Page 358 - See Mystery to Mathematics fly ! In vain ! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restor'd; Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.
Page 358 - Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest, Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, Art after Art goes out, and all is Night: See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Page 2 - tis past a doubt All Bedlam or Parnassus is let out : Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Page 3 - Twit'nam, and in humble strain Apply to me to keep them mad or vain. Arthur,8 whose giddy son neglects the laws, Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause : Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope, And curses wit, and poetry, and Pope. Friend to my life, (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song...
Page 141 - Berkshire, •This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man : A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great : Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace.
Page 135 - Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Blest satirist ! who touch'd the mean so true, As show'd, vice had his hate and pity too. Blest courtier ! who could king and country please, Yet sacred keep his friendships, and his ease. Blest peer ! his great forefathers...
Page 78 - Bright through the rubbish of some hundred years ; Command old words, that Ion*; have slept, to wake, Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spake ; Or bid the new be English ages hence (For use will father what's begot by sense); Pour the full tide of eloquence along, Serenely pure, and yet divinely strong, Rich with the treasures of each foreign tongue...