« VorigeDoorgaan »
That life is long which answers life's great end.
1685 - 1740.
On Beau Nash's Picture at full length, between the Busts
of Sir Isaac Newton and Mr. Pope.
Adds to the thought much strength;
But Folly 's at full length.
1674 - 1748.
Hymns and Spiritual Songs.
Book ii. Hymn 19.
In brief, all things are artificial; for Nature is the art of God.” - Sir Thomas BROWNE, Religio Medici, Sect. xvi.
† Generally ascribed to Chesterfield.
1700 - 1748.
Castle of Indolence.
Canto i. Stanza 30.
On the Death of a Favorite Cat. A favorite has no friends.
On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. To each his sufferings; all are men,
Condemned alike to groan, The tender for another's pain
The unfeeling for his own.
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
i. 3. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.t
* “ An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair, And fell adown his shoulders with loose care."
Cowley, Davideis, Book ü. Line 102. “ The imperial ensign, which full high advanced, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind.”
Par. Lost, Book i. Line 536. † “ As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart.”
Julius Cresar, Act ii. Sc. 1. “Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life, Dear as these eyes that weep in fondness o'er thee."
OTWAY, Venice Preserved, Act v.
Elegy in a Country Churchyard.
A Long Story.
The Good-natured Man.
Measures, not men, have always been my mark.t
She stoops to Conquer.
Act i. Sc. 2.
A concatenation accordingly.
But there's no love lost between us.
* “Rich with the spoils of nature.” Sır THOMAS BROWNE, Relig. Med , Sect. xii.
† “Of this stamp is the cant of Not men, but measures; a sort of charm by which many people get loose from every honorable engagement.” — BURKE, Present Discontents.
Vain, very vain, my weary search to find
And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to sleep,
And leaves the wretch to weep.
If not first, in the very first line.
Haunch of Venison. Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It 's like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt.
* “If your friend is in want, don't carry him to the tavern, where you treat yourself as well as him, and entail a thirst and headache upon him next morning. To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy and fill his snuff-box, is like giving a pair of laced ruffles to a man that has never a shirt on his back.” – Tom Brown, Breen's English Literature.