« EelmineJätka »
12. In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill, For, even tho' vanquish'd, he could argue still. GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.
13. With words of learned length, and thund'ring sound. GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.
14. Too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,
And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining.
15. The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
17. A dearth of words a woman need not fear;
That shows or makes you both polite and wise.
16. Be silent always, when you doubt your sense, And speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence. POPE'S Essay on Criticism.
18. Talking, she knew not why, and car'd not what.
19. If, in talking from morning till night, A sign of our wisdom there be, The swallows are wiser by right,
For they prattle much faster than we.
20. And there's one rare, strange virtue in their speeches, The secret of their mastery-they are short.
1. The vain coquette each suit disdains,
2. Who hath not heard coquettes complain
5. Would you teach her to love? For a time seem to rove;
3. Nymph of the mincing mouth, and languid eye,
DR. WOLCOT's Peter Pindar.
Then sees your
And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin.
At first she may frown in a pet;
But leave her awhile,
She shortly will smile,
And then you may win your coquette.
6. Can I again that look recall,
That once could make me die for thee?-
7. Still panting o'er a crowd to reign,
8. Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
9. There's danger in the dazzling eye,
10. But why, O, why on all thus squander
1. A great man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.
2. But where to find the happiest spot below,
3. Whither where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar land in snow.
C. F. HOFFMAN.
4. Gay sprightly land of mirth and social joy! GOLDSMITH'S Traveller.
5. The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
6. Then said the mother to her son,
7. Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
9. Carolina, Carolina! Heaven's blessings attend her!
10. Let Spain boast the treasures that grow in her mines;
11. Our bosoms with rapture beat high at thy name,
Thy health is our transport-our triumph thy fame;
12. On, on to the just and glorious strife,
With your swords your freedom shielding;
13. Sweet clime of my kindred, blest land of my birth!
14. Oh heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!
15. Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And freedom shriek'd, as Kosciusko fell!
CAMPBELL'S Pleasures of Hope.
They never fail who die
In a great cause: the block may soak their gore,
But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years
The world at last to freedom.
BYRON'S Marino Faliero.