Satire and Satirists

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Bogue, 1854 - 276 Seiten

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Seite 46 - Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day : The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, And shows his miseries in distant lands ; Condemn'da needy supplicant to wait, While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. But did not chance at length her error mend ? Did no subverted empire mark his end ? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound ? Or hostile millions press him to the ground. His fall was destined to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand ; He left the name, at which the world grew...
Seite 177 - And he himself one vile antithesis. Amphibious thing ! that acting either part, The trifling head, or the corrupted heart ; Fop at the toilet, flatterer at the board, Now trips a lady, and now struts a lord.
Seite 45 - Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke ; With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest ; Fate never wounds more deep the generous heart Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart.
Seite 43 - Shades, that to Bacon could retreat afford, Become the portion of a booby lord ; And Hemsley, once proud Buckingham's delight, Slides to a scrivener, or a city knight. Let lands and houses have what lords they will, Let us be fix'd, and our own masters still.
Seite 84 - He was a man of middle age ; In aspect manly, grave, and sage, As on King's errand come ; But in the glances of his eye, A penetrating, keen, and sly Expression found its home...
Seite 177 - Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal...
Seite 45 - Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine. Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end be thine ? Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content, The wisest justice on the banks of Trent...
Seite 214 - Since laws were made for every degree, To curb vice in others, as well as in me, I wonder we ha'n't better company Upon Tyburn tree.
Seite 139 - Read all the prefaces of Dryden, For these our critics much confide in (Though merely writ at first for filling, To raise the volume's price a shilling).
Seite 45 - By numbers here from shame or censure free, All crimes are safe but hated poverty. This, only this, the rigid law pursues, This, only this, provokes the snarling Muse. The sober trader at a tatter'd cloak Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke; With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways.

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