Ode in Imitation of Horace. B. iii. Od. 2. And virtue is her own reward. Solomon on the Vanity of the World. Part ii. Abra was ready ere I called her name; And though I called another, Abra came. • To the Hon. Charles Montague. Our hopes, like tow'ring falcons, aim At objects in an airy height: The little pleasure of the game Is from afar to view the flight.' COLLEY CIBBER. 1671-1757. Richard TIL Act iv. Sc. 3. I 've lately had two spiders Crawling upon my startled hopes — Now tho' thy friendly hand has brushed 'em from me, Yet still they crawl offensive to my eyes; I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em. Act iv. Sc. 3. Act v. Sc. 3. * Variations in a copy printed 1692. But all the pleasure of the game Is afar off to view the flight. Absolom and Aehitophel — Continued Part i. Line 156. Part i. Line 163.. Parti. Line 169. Part i. Line 174. Part i. Line 238. Part i. Line 301. Part i. Line 512. Part i. Line 534. * Your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.—Joel iii. 28. Absalom and Achitophel — Continued. Part i. Line 545. Part i. Line 557. Part i. Line 645. Part i. Line 868. Part i. Line 1005. Beware the fury of a patient man. Part ii. Line 414. And dashed through thick and thin.* Part ii. Line 463. For every inch, that is not fool, is rogue. * Through thick and thin, both over banck and bush, In hopes her to attaine by hookc or crooke. Fairie Queene. Book 3. c. i. st. 17. All for Love. Prologue. Act iv. Sc. i. The Tempest. Prologue. Conquest of Grenada. Part i. Sc. 1. Spanish Friar. Don Sebastian. Act i. Sc. 1. This is the porcelain clay of human kind. Translation of Juvenal's 10th Satire. Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue. Prologue to Lee's Sophonisba. Imitation of the 29?A of Horace. Book i. Line 65. Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own: He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day. Mac Flecknoe. Line 20. The Cock and Fox. Theodore and Honoria. And that one hunting, which the devil design'd For one fair female, lost him half the kind. On Milton. |