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[The Dunciad continued.

Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls, And makes night hideous;1-answer him, ye owls. Book iii. Line 165.

A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.

Book iv. Line 90.

The right divine of kings to govern wrong.

Book iv. Line 188.

Stuff the head

With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, goddess, and about it.

Book iv. Line 249.

Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,
And gather'd every vice on Christian ground.

Book iv. Line 311.

Judicious drank, and greatly daring din'd.

Book iv. Line 318.

Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,

And heard thy everlasting yawn confess

The pains and penalties of idleness.

Book iv. Line 342.

E'en Palinurus nodded at the helm.

Book iv. Line 614.

Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires,

And unawares Morality expires.

Nor public flame, nor private dares to shine;

1 Making night hideous.

Shakespeare, Hamlet, Acti. St. 4

2 See Cowper, p. 367.

The Dunciad continued.]

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.

Book iv. Line 649.

ELOISA TO ABELARD.

Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid.

Line 51.

Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.

Line 57.

Curse on all laws but those which love has made. Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,

Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Line 74.

And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence.1

Line 192.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Line 207.

One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight; Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight."

Line 273.

1 She hugged the offender and forgave the offence.

Dryden, Cymon and Iphigenia, Line 107.

2 Priests, tapers, temples, swam before my sight.

Edmund Smith, Phædra and Hippolytus.

[Eloisa to Abelard continued.

See my lips tremble and my eyeballs roll; Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul.

Line 323.

He best can paint them who shall feel them most.

Line ult.

Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd,
But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd,

Where order in variety we see,

And where, though all things differ, all agree. Windsor Forest. Line 13.

A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.

Ibid. Line 62.

From old Belerium to the northern main.

Ibid. Line 316.

Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favours call;
She comes unlook'd for, if she comes at all.

The Temple of Fame. Line 513.

Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown;
O grant an honest fame, or grant me none !

Ibid. Lin. ult.

I am his Highness's dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?

On the Collar of a Dog.

There, take, (says Justice,) take ye each a shell;
We thrive at Westminster on fools like you;
'T was a fat oyster - live in peace - adieu.1
Verbatim from-Boileau.

1 "Tenez voilà," dit-elle, "à chacun une écaille,
Des sottises d'autrui nous vivons au Palais;

Messieurs, l'huître étoit bonne. Adieu. Vivez en paix."

Epitre, ii. (à M. L'Abbé des Roches.)

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Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

Ibid.

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory?

O death! where is thy sting?

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,

Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

Ibid.

Ode on Solitude.

1 Cf. Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Book iv. C. i. St. 42.

What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade Invites my steps and points to yonder glade?

To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line I. By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd, By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd, By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd. Ibid. Line 51.

And bear about the mockery of woe

To midnight dances, and the public show.

Ibid. Line 57

How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot;

A heap of dust alone remains of thee;

'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be !

Ibid. Line 71.

Such were the notes thy once lov'd poet sung, Till death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue. Epist. to Robert, Earl of Oxford.

Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief but when he died.

Epitaph on the Hon. S. Harcourt. The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.

Epitaph on Mrs. Corbet. Of manners gentle, of affections mild;

In wit a man, simplicity a child.2

Epitaph on Gay.

1 What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew, Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew?

Ben Jonson, Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet. 2 Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child. Dryden, Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew.

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