Bell's Edition: The Poets of Great Britain Complete from Chaucer to Churchill ...

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J. Bell, 1797

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Página 67 - Be to her virtues very kind ; Be to her faults a little blind ; Let all her ways be unconfin'd ; And clap your padlock — on her mind.
Página 56 - She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives: Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even; And opens in each heart a little Heaven.
Página 71 - Dear Thomas, did'st thou never pop Thy head into a tin-man's shop? There, Thomas, did'st thou never see ('Tis but by way of Simile !) A squirrel spend his little rage, In jumping round a rolling cage ? The cage, as either side...
Página 56 - Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire, To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire; Or had I faith like that which Israel saw, When Moses gave them miracles and law...
Página 8 - tis his fancy to run, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast. " So, when I am wearied with wandering all day, To thee, my delight, in the evening I come; No matter what beauties I saw in my way, They were but my visits, but thou art my home ! " Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree ; For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, As he was a poet sublimer than me.
Página 68 - On his death-bed poor Lubin lies, His spouse is in despair ; With frequent sobs and mutual cries, They both express their care. " ' A different cause,' says Parson Sly, ' The same effect may give ; Poor Lubin fears that he shall die, His wife that he may live.
Página 24 - Serenely pleasant, calmly fair; Soft fell her words as flew the air. With secret joy I heard her say, That she would never miss one day A walk so fine, a sight so gay.
Página 20 - Andrew; and, for once, I will. — Be of your patron's mind, whate'er he says ; Sleep very much ; think little ; and talk less ; Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong, But eat your pudding, slave; and hold your tongue.
Página xxxiii - I shall have little stomach to eat ; I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace, Would you be so kind as to go in my place.
Página 155 - For while she makes her silk-worms beds, With all the tender things, I swear, Whilst all the house my passion reads, In papers round her baby's hair. She may receive and own my flame, For though the strictest prudes should know it, She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, And I for an unhappy poet.

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