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Satires of Horace - Continued.
Book ii. Epistle i. Line 108.
The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease.
Epilogue to the Satires.
Dialogue i. Line 136.
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Epitaph on Gay.
Of manners gentle, of affections mild;
Eloisa to Abelard.
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
Book i. Line 54.
And solid pudding against empty praise.
Book ii. Line 34.
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
* Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.
Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew. DRYDEN.
The Dunciad. - Continued.
Book iii. Line 158.
All crowd, who foremost shall be damned to fame.
Book iii. Line 165.
Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls,
Thus, if small things we may with great compare.*
On the Dying Christian to his Soul.
Vital spark of heavenly flame.
Martinus Scriblerus on the Art of Sinking in Poetry. Chapter xi.
Ye Gods! annihilate but space and time,
And make two lovers happy.
* Non aliter, si parva licet componere magnis.
Virgil, Georg: Book iv. line 176.
To compare great things with small.
Par. Lost. Book ii. line 921.
Epitaph on the Hon. S. Harcourt.
Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief but when he died.
On the Collar of a Dog.
I am his Highness's dog at Kew;
Book ii. Line 315.
Few sons attain the praise
Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.
Book xiv. Line 410.
Far from gay cities and the ways of men.
Book xv. Line 79.
Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.
Book xv. Line 83.
True friendship's laws are by this rule expressed, Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
On the Death of Addison.
Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed
There taught us how to live; and (oh! too high
Colin and Lucy.
I hear a voice you cannot hear,
The Hermit. Line 5.
Remote from man, with God he passed the days,
The Pervigilium Veneris.
WRITTEN IN THE TIME oF JULIUS CÆSAR, AND BY SOME ASCRIBED TO CATULLUS.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always loved, now love the more.
What D' ye Call 't.
Act ii. Sc. 9.
So comes a reckoning when the banquet 's o'er,
Act i. Sc. 1.
O'er the hills and far away.
How happy could I be with either,
The Shepherd and the Philosopher.
The Mother, the Nurse, and the Fairy.
The Sick Man and the Angel.
While there is life there's hope, he cried.*
* Ελπίδες ἐν ζωοῖσιν, ἀνέλπιστοι δὲ θανόντες.
Theocritus, Id. iv. line 42.