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The Cambridge Tart: Epigrammatic and Satiric-Poetical Effusions; &C. &C ...
No preview available - 2016
Allen bard BISHOP OF NORWICH Blewit Boldly I preach breast CAMBRIDGE TART Cantab chapel charm CHRISTOPHER SMART coll cries daughter Dean dear divine doth dread drink dull E'en e'er EPIGRAM eyes fair fame Farewell fate fill your heads fire fools George George Benson gown grace Granta's happy hate a cross hate a surplice heads with crotchets hear me pray heart Hobson's choice honours horse John John's Johnian joys learned Mathematics Mathesis mighty miller mind Mitres muse ne'er never night Note nymph o'er Pembroke hall Pizarro play poet poor praise pray Nine pray'r Randolph RIVER CAM rochets round sack scholar shew sing sleep smile song soul sound strange student sure sweet thee thou thought thro town trin Trinity College Twas URSA MINOR verse Vitruvian Whig wife wine Wooden Spoon youth
Page 230 - Farewell, rewards and fairies, Good housewives now may say, For now foul sluts in dairies Do fare as well as they ; And though they sweep their hearths no less Than maids were wont to do, Yet who of late for cleanliness Finds sixpence in her shoe ? " Lament, lament, old abbeys, The fairies' lost command ; They did but change priests...
Page 70 - I was so good-humour'd, so cheerful and gay, My Heart was as light as a Feather all Day. But now I so cross and so peevish am grown, So strangely uneasy, as never was known. My fair one is gone, and my joys are all drown'd, And my Heart, - I am sure it weighs more than a Pound.
Page 171 - God bless the King ! — I mean the faith's defender — God bless (no harm in blessing !) the Pretender ! But who Pretender is, or who is King — God bless us all ! — that's quite another thing.
Page 55 - Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull.
Page 232 - Their dances were procession. But now, alas ! they all are dead, Or gone beyond the seas, Or farther for religion fled, Or else they take their ease. A tell-tale in their company They never could endure ; And whoso kept not secretly . Their mirth, was punished sure : It was a just and Christian deed To pinch such black and blue...
Page 55 - But lately, finding him so long at home, And thinking now his journey's end was come, And that he had ta'en up his latest Inn, In the kind office of a...
Page 72 - for it makes me quite mad, To see you so merry, while I am so sad.
Page 232 - Witness those rings and roundelays Of theirs, which yet remain, Were footed in Queen Mary's days On many a grassy plain ; But since of late Elizabeth, And later, James came in, They never danced on any heath As when the time hath been.