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Give me th' avow'd, th' erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet—perhaps may turn his blow;
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh, save me from the candid friend!
New Morality. From the Poetry of the Antijacobin.

A steady patriot of the world alone,

The friend of every country but his own.

A sudden thought strikes me,

Let us swear an eternal friendship.


The Rovers, in the Poetry of the Antijacobin.

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So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides

The Derby Dilly, carrying three Insides.

The Loves of the Triangles. Lines 178, 179.


He is a fool, who thinks by force or skill,
To turn the current of a woman's will.

The Adventures of Five Hours.*

Act v.

*This and the following extract are evidently the origin of the well-known and constantly repeated lines, the


A woman will, or won't, depend on't;

If she will do't, she will, and there's an end on't;
But, if she wont-since safe and sound your trust is,
Fear is affront, and jealousy injustice.

Epilogue to his play of Zara.


At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,

authorship of which has occasioned so much discussion. The lines, as generally quoted, are thus—

"That man's a fool who tries by force or skill

To stem the current of a woman's will;

For if she will, she will, you may depend on 't,

And if she wont, she wont, and there's an end on 't."

Sir Samuel Tuke's play has long sunk into oblivion; it is an adaptation from the Spanish of Calderon. Tuke died in 1673. The Epilogue to Zara was spoken by Mrs. Clive. Hill wrote several other plays, but they have ceased to occupy a position on the stage. Shakspere (Two Gentlemen of Verona, act 1. scene 3) has a line very similar to one of Hill's-Antonio, addressing Proteus, says— "My will is something sorted with his wish; Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end."

When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.

The Hermit.


A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness,

Endymion. Lines 1-3.


Immodest words admit of no defence,

For want of decency is want of sense.


Essay on Translated Verse.

* Frequently attributed to Pope. A curious illustration of this error occurred on the occasion of Ebenezer Elliott, the corn-law rhymer, lecturing some years ago in Manchester on Pope's works. In the course of his lecture Elliott pointedly criticised these lines as being Pope's. Dr. Franklin, too, in his Autobiography, quotes them very emphatically as Pope's, and suggests as a new reading

"Immodest words admit but this defence,
The want of decency is want of sense."


A fellow feeling makes one wondrous kind. Occasional Prologue, written and spoken by him on Leaving the Stage, June 10, 1776.

Are these the choice dishes the Doctor has sent us?
Is this the great poet whose works so content us?
This Goldsmith's fine feast, who has written fine books?
Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks.
Epigram on Goldsmith's Poem Retaliation.


Care to our coffin adds a nail no doubt;
And every grin, so merry, draws one out,

Expostulatory Odes.

A fellow in a market town,

Most musical, cried razors up and down.*

Ode 15.

Farewell Odes. Ode 3.

* The story of the country bumpkin who purchased razors "twelve for eighteen pence "of the peripatetic razor-seller, which were made to sell-not to shave, is familiar enough to render a more lengthy extract needless. It is scarcely necessary to say that it was Dr. Wolcot who wrote under the name of Peter Pindar.


There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack.

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Justice is lame, as well as blind, amongst us. Venice Preserved. Act 1. Scene 1.

Oh woman! lovely woman! nature made thee
To temper man; we had been brutes without you;
Angels are painted fair to look like you;

There's in you all that we believe of heaven,
Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,

Eternal joy, and everlasting love.



When the judgment's weak,

The prejudice is strong.

Midas. A Burletta. Act 1.

Scene 3.

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