The Works of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, Volumen6C. Bathurst, C. Davis, C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. Hodges, R. and J. Dodsley, and W. Bowyer., 1754 |
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... Molly Mog . * A new fong of new fimilies . Sea fubfcrip- 156 160 168 171 174 Newgate's garland . A ballad , etc. 178 On Wood the patentee's Prometheus . Irish half - pence . 182 * Strephon and Flavia . Corinna . 185 186 * The * The ...
... Molly Mog . * A new fong of new fimilies . Sea fubfcrip- 156 160 168 171 174 Newgate's garland . A ballad , etc. 178 On Wood the patentee's Prometheus . Irish half - pence . 182 * Strephon and Flavia . Corinna . 185 186 * The * The ...
Página
... Molly Mog . * A new fong of new fimilies . * 156 160 168 171 174 Newgate's garland . A ballad , etc. 178 Prometheus . On Wood the patentee's Irish half - pence . Strephon and Flavia . ** Corinna . 182 185 186 * The * The Quidnuncki's ...
... Molly Mog . * A new fong of new fimilies . * 156 160 168 171 174 Newgate's garland . A ballad , etc. 178 Prometheus . On Wood the patentee's Irish half - pence . Strephon and Flavia . ** Corinna . 182 185 186 * The * The Quidnuncki's ...
Página 171
... MOLLY MOG : OR , THE The Fair Maid of the Inn SAYS AYS my uncle , I pray you discover What hath been the caufe of your woes , Why you pine , and you whine , like a lover ? I've feen Molly Mog of the Rofe . O nephew ! your grief is but ...
... MOLLY MOG : OR , THE The Fair Maid of the Inn SAYS AYS my uncle , I pray you discover What hath been the caufe of your woes , Why you pine , and you whine , like a lover ? I've feen Molly Mog of the Rofe . O nephew ! your grief is but ...
Página 172
... Molly Mog . Will - o ' - wifp leads the traveller a gadding Through ditch , and through quagmire and bog : But no light can fet me a madding , Like the eyes of my fweet Molly Mog . For guineas in other mens breeches Your gamesters will ...
... Molly Mog . Will - o ' - wifp leads the traveller a gadding Through ditch , and through quagmire and bog : But no light can fet me a madding , Like the eyes of my fweet Molly Mog . For guineas in other mens breeches Your gamesters will ...
Página 173
... Molly Mog . A letter when I am inditing , Comes Cupid , and gives me jog ; And I fill all the paper with writing Of nothing but sweet Molly Mog . If I would not give up the three Graces , I wish I were hang'd like a dog , And at court ...
... Molly Mog . A letter when I am inditing , Comes Cupid , and gives me jog ; And I fill all the paper with writing Of nothing but sweet Molly Mog . If I would not give up the three Graces , I wish I were hang'd like a dog , And at court ...
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The Works of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin: Including ... Jonathan Swift,John Hawkesworth Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Againſt Becauſe Befides beft beſt Cadenus cafe call'd cauſe cou'd countess of Burlington courſe dean DERMOT diff'rent duke Dunciad eaſe Epigram ev'ry eyes fafe faid fair fame fancy fatire feen fent feven fhall fhame fhew fhould fhow fide fince firft firſt fkies fome fools foon ftand ftill fuch fure fwear fweet grace Guife hath heart himſelf honour houfe houſe Jove juft juſt king lady laft laſt loft lord madam mafter mattadore mind Molly moſt mufe muft muſe muſt ne'er never nymph o'er Ovid paffion Pallas parfon paſs pleaſe pleaſure poet pow'r praiſe pride profe publick Quadrille raiſe reafon reft rhyme rife round ſay ſcarce ſcene ſhall ſhe Stella ſtill thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand turn'd Twas uſe Vaneſſa Verfes verſe virtue whig whofe whoſe wife wiſh wou'd
Pasajes populares
Página 128 - Tis but the funeral of the former year. Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, And the gay conscience of a life well spent, Calm every thought, inspirit every grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face. Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear...
Página 129 - Tis love, not devotion, that turns up her eyes; Those stars of this world are too good for the skies. ' But Chloe so lively, so easy, so fair — Her wit so genteel, without art, without care; When she comes in my way, the motion, the pain, The leapings, the achings, return all again.
Página 284 - To fancy they could live a year ! I find you're but a stranger here. The Dean was famous in his time, And had a kind of knack at rhyme : His way of writing now is past ; The town has got a better taste. I keep no antiquated stuff, But spick and span I have enough.
Página 28 - He gathers all the parish there ; Points out the place of either yew, Here Baucis, there Philemon, grew ; Till once a parson of our town, To mend his barn, cut Baucis down ; At which, 'tis hard to be...
Página 28 - what's this you tell us ? I hope you don't believe me jealous ? But yet, methinks, I feel it true ; And really yours is budding too : — Nay — now I cannot stir my foot ; It feels as if 'twere taking root.
Página 245 - HERE continueth to rot The Body of FRANCIS CHARTRES, Who, with an INFLEXIBLE CONSTANCY, and INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY of Life, PERSISTED, In spite of AGE and INFIRMITIES, In the Practice of EVERY HUMAN VICE, Excepting PRODIGALITY and HYPOCRISY : His insatiable AVARICE exempted him from the first, His matchless IMPUDENCE from the second.
Página 7 - Cadenus many things had writ : Vanessa much esteem'd his wit, And call'd for his poetic works : Meantime the boy in secret lurks ; And, while the book was in her hand, The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierc'd the feeble volume through, And deep transfix'd her bosom too.
Página 23 - Having through all the village past, To a small cottage came at last, Where dwelt a good old honest ye'man, Call'd in the neighbourhood Philemon ; Who kindly did these saints invite In his poor hut to pass the night ; And then the hospitable...
Página 283 - tis a shocking sight, And he's engaged to-morrow night; My Lady Club will take it ill, If he should fail her at quadrille. He loved the Dean— (I lead a heart,) But dearest friends, they say, must part. His time was come: he ran his race; We hope he's in a better place.
Página 282 - I'm sorry; but we all must die. Indifference clad in Wisdom's Guise, All Fortitude of Mind supplies: For how can stony Bowels melt, In those who never Pity felt; When We are lash'd, They kiss the Rod; Resigning to the Will of God.