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" Their only labour was to kill the time ; And labour dire it is, and weary woe. They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme, Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, Or saunter forth, with tottering step and slow. This soon too rude an exercise they... "
Conversation; or, Shades of difference - Page 186
by Heron - 1821
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and Improvements. ...

James Thomson - 1760
...Or faunter forth, with tottering ftep and flow : This foon too rude an exercife they find ; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw. Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd, And court thevapourygod foft-breathing in the wind,. . ' LxxIn. Now muft I mark...
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The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical ..., Volumes 48-49

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1779
...Or faunter forth, with tottering ftep and flow : This foon too rude an exercife they find ; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god foft. breathing in the wind. LXXIII. Now muft I mark...
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Lady's Poetical Magazine, Or Beauties of British Poetry, Volume 4

English poetry - 1782
...to the glafs they go, Or faunter forth, with tott'ring ftep and flow: This foon too rude an exercife they find ; Straight on the couch their limbs again they throw. Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god foft-breathing in the wind. Now muft I mark the villainy...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Volume 1

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1788
...go,Or faunter forth, with tottering ftep and flow : This foon too rude an exercife they find; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god foft-breathing in the wind. LXXIII. Now muft I mark...
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The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and ..., Volume 54

English poets - 1790
...Or faunter forth, with tottering ftep and flow : This foon too rude an exercife they find ; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god foft-breathing in the wind, LXXIII. Now muft I mark...
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Elegant Extracts; Or, Useful and Entertaining Pieces of Poetry ..., Volume 1

Vicesimus Knox - English poetry - 1791
...Or iaimter forth, with tott'ring ftcp and flow : This loon too rude an cxcrcife they find ; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they fighmglv rechn'd, And court the vap'ry god loft-breathing in the wind. ğMr. Qnia. f The following...
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Young. Churchill. Lloyd. Falconer. Thomson

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1800
...go, Or faunter forth, with tottering (lep mid flow : This foon too rude an exerciU: they find; Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they fighing lie rctliii'd, And ctourt the vapoury god ibft-breathing in the wind. LXXIII. Now irnilt I...
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Young. Churchill. Lloyd. Falconer. Thomson

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1800
...Or fwntcr tank, with tottering fte)' and flow : This foon too rude ail cxcrcne they find ; Stnit oo the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they lighin^ Uc reclin'd, Aad court the vapoury jjoj lofi-breathing in the wind. LXXIII. NoĞr rauft. I...
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The Works of Mr. James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Volume 1

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1802
...kill the time; And labour dire it is, and weary woe. They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme; Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, Or saunter...limbs again they throw, -Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god soft-breathing in the wind. LXXIII. Now must I mark...
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The works of mr. James Thomson, to which is prefixed the life of ..., Volume 1

James Thomson - 1802
...kill the time; And labour dire it is, and weary woe. They sir, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme; Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, Or saunter...limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclin'd, And court the vapoury god soft-breathing in the wind. LXXIII. Now must I mark...
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