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Página 85 - HAPPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground ; Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in Summer yield him shade, In Winter fire.
Página 85 - Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body; peace of mind; Quiet by day ; Sound sleep by night; study and ease Together mix'd; sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Página 234 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Página 301 - Pray tell me next how you deal with the critics? " Sir," said he,
Página 226 - I never had any esteem for, are likely to enjoy this world after me. When I reflect what an...
Página 302 - Now, sir, (continued Mr. Lintot,) in return to the frankness I have shown, pray tell me, is it the opinion of your friends at Court that my Lord Lansdown will be brought to the bar or not?" I told him I heard he would not, and I hoped it, my Lord being one I had particular obligations to. — " That may be," replied Mr. Lintot, " but by G , if he is not, I shall lose the printing of a very good trial.
Página 164 - L. walked with me three or four hours by moonlight, and we met no creature of any quality but the King, who gave audience to the vicechamberlain all alone under the garden wall.
Página 124 - All that regards design, form, fable (which is the soul of poetry), all that concerns exactness or consent of parts (which is the body), will probably be wanting; only pretty conceptions, fine metaphors, glittering expressions, and something of a neat cast of verse (which are properly the dress, gems, or loose ornaments of poetry), may be found in these verses.
Página 233 - I will do, but have already done the thing you desired of me. You have it (as Cowley calls it) just warm from the brain. It came to me the first moment I waked this morning: yet, you will see, it was not so absolutely inspiration, but that I had in my head not only the verses of Adrian, but the fine fragment of Sappho, &c.
Página 54 - People seek for what they call wit, on all subjects, and in all places ; not considering that nature loves truth so well, that it hardly ever admits of flourishing : conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty ; it is not only needless, but impairs what it would improve.