If modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd, And every opening virtue blooming round, Could save a parent's justest pride from fate, Or add one patriot to a sinking state;...
This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man: A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the proud and great:...
Under this marble, or under this sill, Or under this turf, or e'en what they will; Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead, Or any good creature shall lay o'er my head,...
When Eastern lovers feed the funeral fire, On the same pile the faithful pair expire. Here pitying Heaven that virtue mutual found, And blasted both, that it might neither wound....
Awake, my St. John!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let us (since Life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die)...
The playful smiles around the dimpled mouth, That happy air of majesty and truth, So would I draw: but, oh! 'tis vain to try, My narrow genius does the power deny; The equal lustre of the heavenly mind,...
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below?...
1 Though Artemisia talks, by fits, Of councils, classics, fathers, wits; Reads Malebranche, Boyle, and Locke: Yet in some things methinks she fails-- 'Twere well if she would pare her nails,...
Fair charmer, cease! nor make your voice's prize, A heart resign'd, the conquest of your eyes: Well might, alas! that threaten'd vessel fail, Which winds and lightning both at once assail....
Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II.i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain The balanc'd world, and open all the main; Your country, chief, in arms abroad defend,...
Tho' Artemisia talks, by fits, Of councils, classics, fathers, wits; Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke; Yet in some things methinks she fails, 'Twere well if she would pare her nails,...
Here shunning idleness at once and praise, This radiant pile nine rural sisters[130] raise; The glittering emblem of each spotless dame, Clear as her soul, and shining as her frame;...
1 Generous, gay, and gallant nation, Bold in arms, and bright in arts; Land secure from all invasion, All but Cupid's gentle darts! From your charms, oh! who would run? Who would leave you for the sun?...
The captain, some time after his return, being retired to Mr Sympson's in the country, Mrs Gulliver, apprehending from his late behaviour some estrangement of his affections, writes him the following expostulatory, soothing, an...