Satires, &c

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J. and P. Knapton, H. Lintot, J. and R. Tonson, and S. Draper, 1751

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Page 39 - O Friend ! may each domeftic blifs be thine ! Be no unpleafing Melancholy mine : Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of repofing Age, With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath, 410 Make Langour fmile, and fmooth the bed of Death, Explore the thought, explain the
Page 13 - you let me know Great Homer dy'd three thoufand years ago. Why did I write ? what fin to me unknown 125 Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own ? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lifp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. VARIATIONS. After
Page 9 - frantic wife elope, 25 And curfes Wit, and Poetry, and Pope. Friend to my Life ! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle fong) What Drop or Noftrum can this plague remove ? Or which muft end me, a Fool's wrath or love
Page 10 - And drop at laft, but in unwilling ears, 39' This faving counfel, " Keep your piece nine years." Nine years ! cries he, who high in Drury-lane, Lull'd by foft Zephyrs thro' the broken pane, Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before Term ends, Oblig'd by hunger, and requeft of friends: " The piece, you think, is incorrect? why take
Page 38 - Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife, Nor marrying Difcord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age. 395 No Courts he faw, no fuits would ever try, Nor dar'd an Oath, nor hazarded a Lye. Un-learn'd, he knew no
Page 26 - Above a Patron, tho' I condefcend 265 Sometimes to call a Miniiler my friend. I was not born for Courts or great affairs ; I pay my debts, believe, and fay my pray'rs ; Can ileep without a Poem in my head, Nor know, if Dennis be alive or dead.
Page 15 - when by thefe approv'd ! Happier their author, when by thefe belov'd ! From thefe the world will judge of men and books, Not from the Burnets, Oldmixons, and Cooks. 146 Soft were my numbers ; who could take offence While pure Defcription held the place of Senfe ? NOTES.
Page 35 - j 365 If on a Pillory, or near a Throne, He gain his Prince's ear, or lofe his own. Yet foft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit : This dreaded Sat'rift Dennis will confefs 370 Foe to his pride, but friend to his
Page 8 - can hide ? They pierce my thickets, thro' my Grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They flop the chariot, and they board the barge, io No place is facred, not the Church is free, Ev'n Sunday
Page 20 - But wonder how the devil they got there. Were others angry : I excus'd them too ; Well might they rage, I gave them but their due. A man's true merit 'tis not hard to find; But each man's fecret ftandard in his mind, That