The New Foundling Hospital for Wit: Being a Collection of Fugitive Pieces, in Prose and Verse, Not in Any Other Collection. With Several Pieces Never Before Published, Τόμος 6

John Almon
J. Debrett, 1784

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Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων

Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις

Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα

Σελίδα 127 - Nor ease, nor peace, that heart can know, That, like the needle true, Turns at the touch of joy or woe; But, turning, trembles too.
Σελίδα 45 - Ev'n from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee; Bid them in Duty's sphere as meekly move; And if so fair, from vanity as free; As firm in friendship, and as fond in love. Tell them...
Σελίδα 166 - Tis all a trick ; these all are shams, By which they mean to cheat you ; But have a care, for you're the Lambs, And they the Wolves that eat you. Nor let the thoughts of no delay To these their courts misguide you ; 'Tis you're the showy Horse, and they The Jockeys that will ride you.
Σελίδα 43 - Strangers for the Necessaries of Life : To him she afforded the Protection of a Mother. . This parental Charity Was returned with filial Affection ; And she was supported in the Feebleness of Age, by him whom she had cherished in the Helplessness of Infancy. LET IT BE REMEMBERED, That there is no Station in which Industry will not obtain Power to be liberal, Nor any Character on which Liberality will not confer Honour.
Σελίδα 59 - In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain. The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, Th' unhappy lovers
Σελίδα 254 - I'ma slave. I bid the whining brotherhood be gone ; Joy to my heart ! my wishes are my own ! Farewell the female heaven, the female hell ; To the great God of Love a glad farewell.
Σελίδα 94 - Where in Punch or good Claret my Sorrows I drown, And toss off a Bowl to the best in the Town: At one in the Morning, I call what's to pay, Then Home to my College I stagger away. Thus I tope all the Night, as I trifle all Day.
Σελίδα 59 - The unhappy lovers graves the myrtle fpreads. Oh ! then, the meaning of thy gift impart, And eafe the throbbings of an anxious heart. Soon muft this fprig, as you fhall fix its doom, Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb.
Σελίδα 270 - I see thy dying lamp's last languid glow, Thy arrows blunted and unbrac'd thy bow. I feel diviner fires my breast inflame...
Σελίδα 151 - WHAT man, in his wits, had not rather be poor, Than for lucre his freedom to give! Ever busy the means of his life to secure; And so ever neglecting to live!

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