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And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to sleep,
And leaves the wretch to weep. Chap. viii.
And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
And cur of low degree. Chap. xvii. Elegy on a Mad Dog.
The dog, to gain some private ends,
The man recovered of the bite,
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy ?
What art can wash her guilt away ?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is—to die.
Measures, not men, have always been my mark.*
The Good-natured Man Act ü. A concatenation accordingly.
She Stoops to Conquer. Act i. Sc. 2.
* Of this stamp is the cant of Not men, but measures; a sort of charm by which many people get loose from every honourable engagement.BURKE. Present Discontents.
Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs.
She Stoops to Conquer. Actiil. But there's no love lost between us.
Ibid. Act iv.
The king himself has followed her
Elegy on Mrs. Mary Blaize. +
The Haunch of Venison.
, Independence, let me share ;
Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,
Ode to Independence. Facts are stubborn things.
Translation of Gil Blas. Book x. Ch. 1. Plain as a pikestaff.
Toid. Book xii. Ch. 8.
* A proverbial expression ; Garrick also makes use of it in his correspondence, 1759.
+ Written in imitation of Chanson sur le fameur La Palisse, which is attributed to Bernard de la Monnoye.
‘On dit que dans ses amours
Il fut caressé des belles,
Tant qu'il marcha devant elles.' # If your friend is in want, don't carry him to the tavern, treat yourself as well as him, and entail a thirst and headache upon him next morning. To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy and fill his snuff-box, is like giving a pair of laced rufiles to a man that has never a shirt on his back.---TOM BROWN.
THOMAS PERCY. 1728-1811.
RELIQUES OF ENGLISH POETRY.
HE that wold not when he might,
He shall not when he wolda.
The Baffled Knight. Weep no more, lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrow is in vain ;
The Friar of Orders Gray. We'll shine in more substantial honors,
And to be noble we'll be good.* Wine freda.
And when with envy time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys, You 'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.
My mind to me a kingdom is;t
Such perfect joy therein I find, As far exceeds all earthly bliss,
That God and Nature hath assigned.
• Howe'er it be, it seems to me,
TENNYSON. Lady Clara Vere de Vere. + Mens regnum bona possidet.
Seneca. Thyestes, Act ii. Line 380.
Robert SOUTHWELL. 1560-1595.
Though much I want that most would have,
From Byrd's Psalmes, Sornets, &C., 1583.
Gry of Gisborne.
Through the sequestered vale of rural life,
Death. Line 108.
One murder made a villain, Millions a hero. Princes were privileged To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime."
War its thousands slays, Peace its ten thousands.
Ibid. Line 173.
* Cf. GRAY, Þ. 229.
There taught us how to live ; and (oh ! too high
TICKELL on the Death of Addison.
JAMES BEATTIE. 1735-1803.
H! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The Minstrel. Book i. St. 1.
At the close of the day when the hamlet is still,
He thought as a sage, but he felt as a man.
By the glare of false science betrayed,
How hard their lot who neither won nor lost.
Epigram. The Bucks had dined.
CHARLES CHURCHILL. 1741-1764.
HE mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone.
The Rosciad. Line 322.
But spite of all the criticizing elves,
* Si vis me flere, dolendum est