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againſt appear beſt better comes cou'd court dead dean dear duke Echo Epigram ev'ry eyes face fair fame fancy fate female fire firſt fools gave give grace grew grow grown half hand hath head hear heart himſelf honour houſe juſt keep kind king lady laſt leave light live look lord madam mind moſt muſe muſt nature ne'er never night nymph o'er once pain play pleaſe poet poor praiſe pride riſe round ſaid ſay ſee ſeen ſenſe ſet ſhall ſhe ſhew ſhould ſince ſome ſtand Stella ſtill ſuch talk tell thee theſe thing thoſe thou thought thouſand told town true turn Twas uſe verſes virtue whoſe wife wiſe wonder wou'd write Written
Page 146 - 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...
Page 263 - 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.
Page 30 - Tis an old maxim in the schools, That flattery's the food of fools; Yet now and then your men of wit Will condescend to take a bit.
Page 43 - A sable cloud athwart the welkin flings, That swill'd more liquor than it could contain, And, like a drunkard, gives it up again.
Page 196 - To raise the lumber from the earth. But view him in another scene, When all his drink is Hippocrene, His money...
Page 300 - I'll venture for the vole.) Six deans, they say, must bear the pall : (I wish I knew what king to call.) Madam, your husband will attend The funeral of so good a friend.
Page 45 - Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs. Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient sits, While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits, And ever and anon with frightful din The leather sounds ; he trembles from within...
Page 301 - 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.
Page 146 - See how the world its veterans rewards ! A youth of frolics, an old age of cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without lovers, old without a friend; A fop their passion, but their prize a sot, Alive, ridiculous; and dead, forgot!