Preface on the manner of writing dialogue. Dialogue 1. On sincerity in the commerce of the world betwen Dr. More and Mr. Waller. Dialogue 2. On retirement between Mr. Cowley and Dr. Sprat. Dialogue 3. On the age of Q. Elizabeth between Mr. Digby, Dr. Arbuthnot and Mr. Addison

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T. Cadell, 1771
 

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Pagina 119 - Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is, in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed today, to be put back tomorrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Pagina 92 - Where do we finer strokes and colours see Of the Creator's real poetry, Than when we with attention look Upon the third day's volume of the book...
Pagina 190 - I'll have Italian masques by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; And in the day when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay.
Pagina 137 - Kings have long hands (they say) and though I be So distant, they may reach at length to me. However, of all Princes, thou...
Pagina 194 - But we shall hardly mistake in supposing it lies somewhere between the rude essays of uncorrected fancy, on the one hand, and the refinements of reason and science, on the other. AND such appears to have been the condition of our language in the age of ELIZABETH.
Pagina 134 - Leah left, thy recompence to be ! Go on: twice seven years more thy fortune try; Twice seven years more God in his bounty may Give thee, to fling away Into the court's deceitful lottery: But think how likely 'tis that thou, With the dull work of thy unwieldy plough...
Pagina 135 - Ah ! wanton foe, dost thou upbraid The ills which thou thyself hast made ? When in the cradle innocent I lay, Thou, wicked spirit, stolest me away, And my abused soul didst bear Into thy new-found worlds, I know not where...
Pagina 131 - And gather hulks of learning up at laft, Now the rich harveft-time of life is paft, , And winter marches on fo faft ? But, when I meant t...
Pagina 130 - A wondrous hieroglyphick robe she wore, In which all colours and all figures were, That nature or that fancy can create, That art can never imitate; And with loose pride it wanton'd in the air. In such a dress, in such a well-cloth'd dream, She us'd, of old, near fair Ismenus' stream, Pindar, her Theban favourite, to meet ; A crown was on her head, and wings were on her feet.
Pagina 136 - The heaven under which I live is fair, The fertile soil will a full harvest bear : Thine, thine is all the barrenness ; if thou...

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