_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 43._
With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 97._
Atossa, cursed with every granted prayer,
Childless with all her children, wants an heir;
To heirs unknown descends the unguarded store,
Or wanders heaven-directed to the poor.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 147._
Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour,
Content to dwell in decencies forever.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 163._
Men, some to business, some to pleasure take;
But every woman is at heart a rake.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 215._
See how the world its veterans rewards!
A youth of frolics, an old age of cards.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 243._
Oh, blest with temper whose unclouded ray
Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day!
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 257._
Most women have no characters at all.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 2._
She who ne'er answers till a husband cools,
Or if she rules him, never shows she rules.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 261._
And mistress of herself though china fall.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 268._
Woman 's at best a contradiction still.
_Moral Essays. Epistle ii. Line 270._
Who shall decide when doctors disagree,
And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 1._
Blest paper-credit! last and best supply!
That lends corruption lighter wings to fly.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 39._
_P._ What riches give us let us then inquire:
Meat, fire, and clothes. _B._ What more?
_P._ Meat, fine clothes, and fire.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 79._
But thousands die without or this or that,--
Die, and endow a college or a cat.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 95._
The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 153._
Extremes in Nature equal good produce;
Extremes in man concur to general use.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 161._
Rise, honest muse! and sing The Man of Ross.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 250._
Ye little stars! hide your diminish'd rays.[322-1]
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 282._
Who builds a church to God and not to fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 285._
In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 299._
Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iii. Line 339._
Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven,
And though no science, fairly worth the seven.
_Moral Essays. Epistle iv. Line 43._
To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite,
Who never mentions hell to ears polite.[322-2]
_Moral Essays. Epistle iv. Line 149._
Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honour clear;
Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend.
_Epistle to Mr. Addison. Line 67._
'T is with our judgments as our watches,--none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.[323-1]
_Essay on Criticism. Part i. Line 9._
One science only will one genius fit:
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
_Essay on Criticism. Part i. Line 60._
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.
_Essay on Criticism. Part i. Line 152._
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.[323-2]
_Essay on Criticism. Part i. Line 177._
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind;
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,--
Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 1._
A little learning is a dangerous thing;[323-3]
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 15._
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 32._
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.[323-4]
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 53._
True wit is Nature to advantage dress'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 97._
Words are like leaves; and where they most abound,
Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 109._
Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style,
Amaze th' unlearn'd and make the learned smile.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 126._
In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold,
Alike fantastic if too new or old:
Be not the first by whom the new are tried,
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 133._
Some to church repair,
Not for the doctrine, but the music there.
These equal syllables alone require,
Though oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid to join,
And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 142._
A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
That like a wounded snake drags its slow length along.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 156._
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
'T is not enough no harshness gives offence,--
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 162._
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar.
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
The line too labours, and the words move slow:
Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 166._
Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move;
For fools admire, but men of sense approve.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 190._
But let a lord once own the happy lines,
How the wit brightens! how the style refines!
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 220._
Envy will merit as its shade pursue,
But like a shadow proves the substance true.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 266._
To err is human, to forgive divine.[325-1]
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 325._
All seems infected that th' infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundic'd eye.
_Essay on Criticism. Part ii. Line 358._
And make each day a critic on the last.
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 12._
Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 15._
The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head.
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 53._
Most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 59._
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.[325-2]
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 66._
Led by the light of the Mæonian star.
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 89._
Content if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view,
The learn'd reflect on what before they knew.[325-3]
_Essay on Criticism. Part iii. Line 180._
What dire offence from amorous causes springs!
What mighty contests rise from trivial things!
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto i. Line 1._
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto i. Line 134._
On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore
Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto ii. Line 7._
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look on her face, and you 'll forget them all.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto ii. Line 17._
Fair tresses man's imperial race insnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.[326-1]
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto ii. Line 27._
Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take--and sometimes tea.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 7._
At every word a reputation dies.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 16._
The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,
And wretches hang that jurymen may dine.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 21._
Coffee, which makes the politician wise,
And see through all things with his half-shut eyes.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 117._
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever
From the fair head, forever, and forever!
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 153._
Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain,
And the nice conduct of a clouded cane.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto iv. Line 123._
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
_The Rape of the Lock. Canto v. Line 34._
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigued, I said;
Tie up the knocker! say I 'm sick, I 'm dead.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 1._
Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 5._
E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 12._
Is there a parson much bemused in beer,
A maudlin poetess, a rhyming peer,
A clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,
Who pens a stanza when he should engross?
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 15._
Friend to my life, which did not you prolong,
The world had wanted many an idle song.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 27._
Obliged by hunger and request of friends.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 44._
Fired that the house rejects him, "'Sdeath! I 'll print it,
And shame the fools."
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 61._
No creature smarts so little as a fool.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 84._
Destroy his fib or sophistry--in vain!
The creature 's at his dirty work again.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 91._
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,
I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 127._
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms![327-1]
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 169._
Means not, but blunders round about a meaning;
And he whose fustian 's so sublimely bad,
It is not poetry, but prose run mad.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 186._
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.[327-2]
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 197._
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;[327-3]
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 201._
By flatterers besieg'd,
And so obliging that he ne'er oblig'd;
Like Cato, give his little senate laws,[327-4]
And sit attentive to his own applause.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 207._
Who but must laugh, if such a man there be?
Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 213._
"On wings of winds came flying all abroad."[327-5]
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 218._
Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow,
That tends to make one worthy man my foe.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 283._
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 307._
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 315._
Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 333._
That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long,
But stoop'd to truth, and moraliz'd his song.[328-1]
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 340._
Me let the tender office long engage
To rock the cradle of reposing age;
With lenient arts extend a mother's breath,
Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death;
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep awhile one parent from the sky.
_Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 408._
Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 6._
Satire 's my weapon, but I 'm too discreet
To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 69._
But touch me, and no minister so sore;
Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time
Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the sad burden of some merry song.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 76._
Bare the mean heart that lurks behind a star.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 110._
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 127._
For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best,
Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.[328-2]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire ii. Book ii. Line 159._
Give me again my hollow tree,
A crust of bread, and liberty.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire vi. Book ii. Line 220._
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epilogue to the Satires. Dialogue
i. Line 136._
To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epilogue to the Satires. Dialogue
ii. Line 73._
When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book i. Line 38._
He 's armed without that 's innocent within.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book i. Line 94._
Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place.[329-1]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book i. Line 103._
Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.[329-2]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 26._
Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 35._
The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 108._
One simile that solitary shines
In the dry desert of a thousand lines.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 111._
Then marble soften'd into life grew warm,
And yielding, soft metal flow'd to human form.[329-3]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 147._
Who says in verse what others say in prose.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 202._
Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join
The varying verse, the full resounding line,
The long majestic march, and energy divine.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 267._
E'en copious Dryden wanted or forgot
The last and greatest art,--the art to blot.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 280._
Who pants for glory finds but short repose:
A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.[329-4]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 300._
There still remains to mortify a wit
The many-headed monster of the pit.[329-5]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 304._
Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise.[330-1]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle i. Book ii. Line 413._
Years following years steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle ii. Book ii. Line 72._
The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle ii. Book ii. Line 85._
Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spoke.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle ii. Book ii. Line 168._
Grac'd as thou art with all the power of words,
So known, so honour'd at the House of Lords.[330-2]
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Epistle vi. Book i. To Mr.
Murray._
Vain was the chief's the sage's pride!
They had no poet, and they died.
_Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Odes. Book iv. Ode 9._
Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night:
God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light.
_Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Newton._
Ye Gods! annihilate but space and time,
And make two lovers happy.
_Martinus Scriblerus on the Art of Sinking in Poetry. Chap. xi._
O thou! whatever title please thine ear,
Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver!
Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air,
Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy-chair.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 19._
Poetic Justice, with her lifted scale,
Where in nice balance truth with gold she weighs,
And solid pudding against empty praise.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 52._
Now night descending, the proud scene was o'er,
But lived in Settle's numbers one day more.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 89._
While pensive poets painful vigils keep,
Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 93._
Next o'er his books his eyes begin to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 127._
Or where the pictures for the page atone,
And Quarles is sav'd by beauties not his own.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 139._
How index-learning turns no student pale,
Yet holds the eel of science by the tail.
_The Dunciad. Book i. Line 279._
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
_The Dunciad. Book ii. Line 34._
Another, yet the same.[331-1]
_The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 90._
Till Peter's keys some christen'd Jove adorn,
And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn.
_The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 109._
All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame.[331-2]
_The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 158._
Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls,
And makes night hideous;[331-3]--answer him, ye owls!
_The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 165._
And proud his mistress' order to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.[331-4]
_The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 263._
A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.[331-5]
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 90._
How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast!
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 169._
The right divine of kings to govern wrong.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 188._
Stuff the head
With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, goddess, and about it.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 249._
To happy convents bosom'd deep in vines,
Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 301._
Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,
And gather'd every vice on Christian ground.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 311._
Judicious drank, and greatly daring din'd.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 318._
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess
The pains and penalties of idleness.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 342._
E'en Palinurus nodded at the helm.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 614._
Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires.
Nor public flame nor private dares to shine;
Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire Chaos is restor'd,
Light dies before thy uncreating word;
Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall,
And universal darkness buries all.
_The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 649._
Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 51._
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 57._
And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 66._
Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 74._
And love the offender, yet detest the offence.[333-1]
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 192._
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 207._
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight;
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight.[333-2]
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 273._
See my lips tremble and my eyeballs roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul.
_Eloisa to Abelard. Line 323._
He best can paint them who shall feel them most.[333-3]
_Eloisa to Abelard. Last line._
Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd,
But as the world, harmoniously confus'd,
Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all agree.
_Windsor Forest. Line 13._
A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.
_Windsor Forest. Line 61._
From old Belerium to the northern main.
_Windsor Forest. Line 316._
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favours call;
She comes unlooked for if she comes at all.
_The Temple of Fame. Line 513._
Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown;
O grant an honest fame, or grant me none!
_The Temple of Fame. Last line._
I am his Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
_On the Collar of a Dog._
There, take (says Justice), take ye each a shell:
We thrive at Westminster on fools like you;
'T was a fat oyster,--live in peace,--adieu.[334-1]
_Verbatim from Boileau._
Father of all! in every age,
In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.
_The Universal Prayer. Stanza 1._
Thou great First Cause, least understood.
_The Universal Prayer. Stanza 2._
And binding Nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.
_The Universal Prayer. Stanza 3._
And deal damnation round the land.
_The Universal Prayer. Stanza 7._
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.[334-2]
_The Universal Prayer. Stanza 10._
Happy the man whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound.
_Ode on Solitude._
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
_Ode on Solitude._
Vital spark of heavenly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame!
_The Dying Christian to his Soul._
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister spirit, come away!
_The Dying Christian to his Soul._
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
_The Dying Christian to his Soul._
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory?
O death! where is thy sting?
_The Dying Christian to his Soul._
What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?[335-1]
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 1._
Is there no bright reversion in the sky
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 9._
The glorious fault of angels and of gods.
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 14._
So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow
For others' good, or melt at others' woe.[335-2]
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 45._
By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,
By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honoured, and by strangers mourn'd!
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 51._
And bear about the mockery of woe
To midnight dances and the public show.
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 57._
How lov'd, how honour'd once avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot;
A heap of dust alone remains of thee:
'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Line 71._
Such were the notes thy once lov'd poet sung,
Till death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue.
_Epistle to Robert, Earl of Oxford._
Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide,
Or gave his father grief but when he died.
_Epitaph on the Hon. S. Harcourt._
The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.
_Epitaph on Mrs. Corbet._
Of manners gentle, of affections mild;
In wit a man, simplicity a child.[335-3]
_Epitaph on Gay._