Mark! how the Rose, when Phoebus burns, Averts her blushing face; Mark! how the Sun-flower fondly turns To meet his warm embrace: Like the coy rose, when woo'd by others, be,...
HOLD! hold, my good friends; for one moment, pray stop ye, I return ye my thanks, in the name of poor Hoppy. He's not the first person who never did write, And yet has been fed by a benefit-night....
We act by fits and starts, like drowning men, But just peep up, and then pop down again. Let those who call us wicked change their sense; For never men lived more on Providence....
As Jupiter I made my court in vain; I'll now assume my native shape again. I'm weary to be so unkindly used, And would not be a god to be refused. State grows uneasy when it hinders love;...
'Enter' MRS. BULKLEY, 'who curtsies very low as beginning to speak. Then enter' MISS CATLEY, 'who stands full before her, and curtsies to the audience'.
Who dares affirm this is no pious age, When charity begins to tread the stage? When actors, who at best are hardly savers, Will give a night of benefit to weavers?...
After our 'sop's fable shown to-day, I come to give the moral of the play. Feign'd Zeal, you saw, set out the speedier pace: But the last heat, Plain Dealing won the race:...
Poets, like disputants, when reasons fail, Have one sure refuge left--and that's to rail. Fop, coxcomb, fool, are thunder'd through the pit; And this is all their equipage of wit....
A Poet once the Spartans led to fight, And made them conquer in the muse's right; So would our poet lead you on this day, Showing your tortured fathers in his play....
A thousand songs I might have made Of You, and only You; A thousand thousand tongues of fire That trembled down a golden wire To lamp the night with stars, to braid The morning bough with dew. ...
'Tis thus, by crystal fount, my muse hath sung, Translating into heavenly tongue Whatever came within my reach, From hosts of beings borr'wing nature's speech. Interpreter of tribes diverse,...
'I don't very well understand what it's all about,' said my uncle. 'I won't say I didn't drop into a doze while the young man was drivelling through his latter soliloquies. But there was a great deal that was unmeaning, vague, ...
What shall we do for Love these days? How shall we make an altar-blaze To smite the horny eyes of men With the renown of our Heaven, And to the unbelievers prove Our service to our dear god, Love?...
One Morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd. My friend and I, by chance we talk'd Of Lessing's famed Laoco'n; And after we awhile had gone In Lessing's track, and tried to see What painting is, what poetry,...
You've seen a pair of faithful lovers die: And much you care; for most of you will cry, 'Twas a just judgment on their constancy. For, heaven be thank'd, we live in such an age,...