Satires, and Other Poems

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G. Willis, 1838 - 168 páginas
 

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Página 9 - I FIRST adventure, with fool-hardy might, To tread the steps of perilous despite. I first adventure, follow me who list, And be the second English satirist.
Página 49 - So nothing in his maw? yet seemeth by his belt, That his gaunt gut no too much stuffing felt. Seest thou how side it hangs beneath his hip? Hunger and heavy iron makes girdles slip.
Página 64 - Naevius his heritage. Nought spendeth he for feare, nor spares for cost ; And all he spends and spares besides is lost.
Página 34 - Whiles his young master lieth o'er his head. Second, that he do, on no default, Ever presume to sit above the salt. Third that he never change his trencher twice. Fourth, that he use all common courtesies, Sit bare at meals, and one half rise and wait. Last, that he never his young...
Página 127 - BIND ye iny browes with mourning cyparisse, And palish twigs of deadlie poplar tree, Or if some sadder shades ye can devise, Those sadder shades vaile my light-loathing eie : I loath the laurel-bandes I loved best, And all that maketh mirth and pleasant rest.
Página 14 - The dead-struck audience, midst the silent rout, Comes leaping in a self-misformed lout, And laughs, and grins, and frames his mimic face, And justles straight into the prince's place; Then doth the theatre echo all aloud, With gladsome noise of that applauding crowd. A goodly hotch-potch ! when vile russetings Are match'd with monarchs, and with mighty kings.
Página 7 - Lo, there th' unthankful swallow takes her rest, And fills the tunnel with her circled nest. " His satires are neither cramped by personal hostility, nor spun out to vague declamations on vice ; but give us the form and pressure of the times, exhibited in the faults of coeval literature, and in the foppery or sordid traits of prevailing manners. The age was undoubtedly fertile in eccentricity.
Página 99 - Beat the broad gates ; a goodly hollow sound, With double echoes, doth again rebound; But not a dog doth bark to welcome thee. Nor churlish porter canst thou chafing see. All dumb and silent, like the dead of night, Or dwelling of some sleepy Sybarite ; The marble pavement hid with desert weed. With house-leek, thistle, dock, and hemlock seed. Look to the tow'red chimnies, which should be The wind-pipes of good hospitality, Through which it breatheth to the open air, Betokening life and liberal welfare...
Página 119 - Or filch whole pages at a clap, for need, From honest Petrarch, clad in English weed ; While big But Oh's!
Página 122 - It is not for every one to relish a true and natural satire; being of itself, besides the nature and inbred bitterness and tartness of particulars, both hard of conceit and harsh of style...

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