The Miscellaneous Works of Tobias Smollett, M. D.: The adventures of Peregrine Pickle, pt. 2. Plays and poems

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J. Mundell & Company, Edinburgh, and for J. Mundell, College, Glasgow, 1796
 

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Página 490 - What foreign arms could never quell, By civil rage and rancour fell. The rural pipe and merry lay No more shall cheer the happy day : No social scenes of gay delight Beguile the dreary winter night : No strains but those of sorrow flow, And...
Página 488 - Hell rises, Heaven descends, and dance on earth : Gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth, A fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball, Till one wide conflagration swallows all.
Página 449 - In a word, to sum up all his talents together, His heart is of lead, and his brain is of feather: Yet, if he has sense but to balance a straw, He' will sure take the hint from the picture I draw.
Página 490 - The wretched owner fees afar His all become the prey of war ; Bethinks him of his babes and wife, Then fmites his breaft, and curfes life. Thy fwains are famifh'd on the rocks, Where once they fed their wanton flocks: Thy ravifh'd virgins fhriek in vain ; Thy infants perifh on the plain. III. What boots it then, in every clime, Thro...
Página 449 - A wit without sense, without fancy, a beau, Like a parrot he chatters, and struts like a crow ; A peacock in pride, in grimace a baboon, In courage a hind, in conceit a gascon.
Página 446 - In beholding your charms, I can see them no more; In beholding your charms, I can see them no more; If you're dead, do but own It ; Then you'll hear me bemoan it; For in loud lamentations your fate I'll deplore. Devil...
Página 491 - The pious mother, doom'd to death, Forsaken, wanders o'er the heath; The bleak wind whistles round her head, Her helpless orphans cry for bread; Bereft of shelter, food, and friend, She views the shades of night descend, And stretch'd beneath the inclement skies Weeps o'er her tender babes and dies.
Página 499 - I'll court in her sequester'd haunts, By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell, Where the poised lark his evening ditty chaunts, And health, and peace, and contemplation dwell.
Página 486 - Aonian grove with rapture would I tread, To crop unfading wreaths for William's head; But that my strain, unheard amidst the throng, Must yield to Lockman's ode and Hanbury's song*. Nor would th...
Página 475 - Poet. ENOUGH, enough; all this we knew before ; 'Tis infamous, I grant it, to be poor : And who so much to sense and glory lost, Will hug the curse that not one joy can boast!

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