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Ashes rise aster Barometry better Blesling Cadenus call'd cou'd Court crouchen cry'd Dame dead Dean Dear defire Duke dy'd e'er Ears Echo Elephants Envy Epigram Ev'n ev'ry Eyes Face faid fair fame Fancy Fate fave fill'd fince fing Flame Folks Fools Friend Gallway Grace grew grown Hand hath Head hear Heart Heav'n Honour House immortal Song Jove King Lady Lise Lord Love Madam Magick Maid Mind Money Muse Name ne'er never Night Nymph o'er Ovid Pain Pallas Parson Partridge Place Play pleas'd Poet Pow'r Praife pray Pride publick Quadrille resolv'd round Salamander Satyr scorn seel Shame Shepherd shew shou'd Slow-worm Stars Stella Styx Swain sweet Molly sweet Oblivion tell thee Thing thou thoufand thought thro Tongue turn'd twas twill Venus Verses Virtue Whene'er Whig Wise Wonder Worm wou'd writ write
Page 270 - In Pope I cannot read a line But, with a sigh, I wish it mine : When he can in one couplet fix More sense than I can do in six, It gives me such a jealous fit, I cry, "Pox take him and his wit.
Page 66 - Then the Bell rung, and I went down to put my Lady to Bed, And, God knows, I thought my Money was as safe as my Maidenhead. So when I came up again, I found my Pocket feel very light, But when I search'd, and miss'd my Purse, Lord! I thought I should have sunk outright: Lord! Madam, says Mary, how d'ye do? Indeed...
Page 22 - Cadenus many things had writ : Vanessa much esteem'd his wit, And call'd for his poetic works : Meantime the boy in secret lurks ; And, while the book was in her hand, The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierc'd the feeble volume through, And deep transfix'd her bosom too.
Page 135 - THIS day, whate'er the Fates decree, Shall still be kept with joy by me : This day, then, let us not be told That you are sick and I grown old, Nor think on our approaching ills, And talk of spectacles and pills : To-morrow will be time enough To hear such mortifying stuff.
Page 276 - He'll treat me as he does my betters, Publish my will, my life, my letters ; Revive the libels born to die : Which Pope must bear as well as I. Here shift the scene, to represent How those I love my death lament.
Page 277 - tis a shocking sight, And he's engaged to-morrow night; My Lady Club will take it ill, If he should fail her at quadrille. He loved the Dean— (I lead a heart,) But dearest friends, they say, must part. His time was come: he ran his race; We hope he's in a better place.
Page 276 - Now Chartres, at Sir Robert's levee, Tells with a sneer the tidings heavy : " Why, if he died without his shoes," Cries Bob, " I'm sorry for the news : Oh, were the wretch but living still, And in his place my good friend Will ! Or had a mitre on his head, Provided Bolingbroke were dead...
Page 271 - See how the Dean begins to break! Poor gentleman, he droops apace! You plainly find it in his face. That old vertigo in his head Will never leave him, till he's dead. Besides, his memory decays: He recollects not what he says...
Page 22 - Vanessa, not in years a score, dreams of a gown of forty-four ; imaginary charms can find in eyes with reading almost blind : Cadenus now no more appears declin'd in health, advanc'd in years. She fancies music in his tongue; no farther looks, but thinks him young.
Page 216 - Nor do they trust their tongues alone, But speak a language of their own; Can read a nod, a shrug, a look, Far better than a printed book; Convey a libel in a frown, And wink a reputation down ; Or by the tossing of the fan, Describe the lady and the man.