The Poetical Note-book and Epigrammatic Museum: Containing More Than One Thousand Choice Epigrams, Fanciful Inscriptons, and Poetical MorceauxA. Robertson, 1824 - 383 pages |
From inside the book
Results 6-10 of 27
Page 60
... twas twenty guineas then , In vain I pray'd and pressed , and proffer'd ten . Another quarter hardly slipp'd away , She begg'd four guineas at the play ; I boggled her demand still humbler grew , ' Twas " thank you kindly , Sir " for ...
... twas twenty guineas then , In vain I pray'd and pressed , and proffer'd ten . Another quarter hardly slipp'd away , She begg'd four guineas at the play ; I boggled her demand still humbler grew , ' Twas " thank you kindly , Sir " for ...
Page 79
... , no coin possessing . In ancient time , when fok did wed , ' Twas to be one at board and bed , But hard's his case , who can't afford , His charmer either bed or board . ON PETER WHITE . Peter White will ne'er go right NOTE BOOK . 79.
... , no coin possessing . In ancient time , when fok did wed , ' Twas to be one at board and bed , But hard's his case , who can't afford , His charmer either bed or board . ON PETER WHITE . Peter White will ne'er go right NOTE BOOK . 79.
Page 85
... Twas then enough to break my heart , And now thank Heav'n ! to break my chain . Cease , thou scorner , cease to shun me ! Now let love and hatred cease ! Half that rigour had undone mé , All that rigour gives me peace . + LOVE MISPLACED ...
... Twas then enough to break my heart , And now thank Heav'n ! to break my chain . Cease , thou scorner , cease to shun me ! Now let love and hatred cease ! Half that rigour had undone mé , All that rigour gives me peace . + LOVE MISPLACED ...
Page 122
... twas wise or well To give all heathens up to hell- Hadrian - Aurelius - Socrates- ́And others , wise and good as these , I know not if it is forbid , But this I know - Christ never did . Gleim . POETICAL RECEIPT FOR MAKING AN OATMEAL ...
... twas wise or well To give all heathens up to hell- Hadrian - Aurelius - Socrates- ́And others , wise and good as these , I know not if it is forbid , But this I know - Christ never did . Gleim . POETICAL RECEIPT FOR MAKING AN OATMEAL ...
Page 136
... Twas anguish ! ' twas distraction ! As none but mothers feel , she felt ! In trembling silence down she knelt , And pray'd to heaven for pity : Then from her breast the gauze remov'd , And softly sang the tune he lov'd , Some lullabying ...
... Twas anguish ! ' twas distraction ! As none but mothers feel , she felt ! In trembling silence down she knelt , And pray'd to heaven for pity : Then from her breast the gauze remov'd , And softly sang the tune he lov'd , Some lullabying ...
Contents
| 175 | |
| 178 | |
| 185 | |
| 198 | |
| 243 | |
| 251 | |
| 259 | |
| 271 | |
| 97 | |
| 110 | |
| 111 | |
| 114 | |
| 115 | |
| 119 | |
| 157 | |
| 173 | |
| 286 | |
| 290 | |
| 320 | |
| 321 | |
| 329 | |
| 344 | |
| 355 | |
| 368 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
ćther Age of Bronze Alderman Ann Drew beauty bless blest bliss breast breath charms COVENT GARDEN THEATRE cried dance David Garrick dear death devil Dick doctor e'er earth epigram ev'ry face fair fame fate flower following lines fool Garrick George King give glass gold grace grave happy heart heaven KENSINGTON GARDENS King kiss knave LADY light lips live look'd Lord Lord Byron lov'd lovers maid MARRIAGE marry Metastasio mind Miss ne'er never night o'er once pain Pindar pity pleasure Poet poor pow'r pray pride Prince Hohenlohe quoth replied Richard Flecknoe rose round shew sigh sleep smile sorrow soul sure sweet t'other tears tell termagant thee there's thing thou thought thro to-morrow tongue true Twas twill verses Whilst wife wise youth Zounds
Popular passages
Page 217 - And all things weigh'd in custom's falsest scale ; Opinion an omnipotence, — whose veil Mantles the earth with darkness, until right And wrong are accidents, and men grow pale Lest their own judgments should become too bright, And their free thoughts be crimes, and earth have too much light.
Page 149 - My prime of youth is but a frost of cares; My feast of joy is but a dish of pain; My crop of corn is but a field of tares; And all my good is but vain hope of gain; The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun; And now I live, and now my life is done!
Page 241 - An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet. Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? " Art thou a man — a patriot ? look around, O thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
Page 105 - When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes: Compounds a medley of disjointed things, A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings: Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad: Both are the reasonable soul run mad: And many monstrous forms in sleep we see, That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be.
Page 42 - On a Girdle That which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer: My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair! Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round!
Page 241 - Touched by remembrance trembles to that pole ; For in this land of heaven's peculiar grace, The heritage of nature's noblest race, There is a spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest...
Page 230 - Eternal HOPE ! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. — When all the sister planets have...
Page 228 - THEY tell us of an Indian' tree, Which, howsoe'er the sun and sky May tempt its boughs to> wander free, And shoot, and blossom, wide- and high, Far better loves to bend its arms Downward again to that dear earth, From which the life, that fills and warms Its grateful being, first had births.. 'Tis thus, though woo'd by flattering friends, And fed with fame (if fame it be) This heart, my own dear mother, bends, With love's true instinct, back to thee I LOVE AND HYMEN.
Page 218 - Yet, Freedom ! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind; Thy trumpet voice, though broken now and dying, The loudest still the tempest leaves behind; Thy tree hath lost its blossoms, and the rind, Chopp'd by the axe, looks rough and little worth, But the sap lasts, — and still the seed we find Sown deep, even in the bosom of the North; So shall a better spring less bitter fruit bring forth.
Page 218 - Thy trumpet voice, though broken now and dying, The loudest still the tempest leaves behind ; Thy tree hath lost its blossoms, and the rind, Chopp'd by the axe, looks rough and little worth ; But the sap lasts, — and still the seed we find Sown deep , even in the bosom of the north : So shall...