The Rape of the Lock,: An Heroi-comical Poem,

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T. Bensley, 1798 - 79 pages

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Page 8 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face and you'll forget 'em all.
Page xxvii - Of airy Elves by moonlight shadows seen, The silver token, and the circled green...
Page 26 - Thrice she look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near. Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought The close recesses of the virgin's thought; As on the nosegay in her breast reclin'd, He watch'd th...
Page 24 - Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade. Coffee (which makes the politician wise, And see through all things with his half-shut eyes) Sent up in vapours to the Baron's brain New stratagems, the radiant lock to gain.
Page 48 - Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows ? How vain are all these glories, all our pains, Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains ; That men may say, when we the front- box grace, Behold the first in virtue as in face...
Page 49 - Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. But since, alas! frail beauty must decay...
Page 10 - The lucid squadrons round the sails repair ; Soft o'er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath.
Page 34 - For, that sad moment, when the sylphs withdrew, And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew, Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite, As ever sullied the fair face of light, Down to the central earth, his proper scene, Repair'd to search the gloomy cave of Spleen.
Page xxxi - Of these am I, who thy protection claim, A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. Late, as I ranged the crystal wilds of air, In the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star I saw, alas! some dread...
Page 24 - In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all. The Knave of diamonds tries his wily arts, And wins (oh shameful chance!) the Queen of hearts. At this, the blood the virgin's cheek...

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