Lives of wits and humourists, Volume 1

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R. Bentley, 1862

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Page 288 - Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind : His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand : His manners were gentle, complying, and bland ; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart...
Page 48 - And the people said unto Saul, Shall Jonathan die. who hath wrought this great salvation in Israel ? God forbid : as the LORD liveth, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground ; for he hath wrought with God this day. So the people rescued Jonathan, that he died not.
Page 249 - His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; The long remember'd beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast.
Page 135 - like a distressed prince who calls in a powerful neighbour to his aid. I was undone by my auxiliary. When I had once called him in, I could not subsist without dependence on him.
Page 72 - He reads much ; He is a great observer and he looks Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music ; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing.
Page 313 - Oh ! let him alone, For making a blunder, or picking a bone. But hang it - to poets who seldom can eat, Your very good mutton's a very good treat; Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt, It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.
Page 202 - So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and the Grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top; and they all fell to playing the game of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots.
Page 325 - Here Cumberland lies, having acted his parts, The Terence of England, the mender of hearts; A flattering painter, who made it his care To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
Page 275 - THE wretch, condemn'd with life to part, Still, still on hope relies ; And every pang that rends the heart, Bids expectation rise. Hope, like the glimmering taper's light, Adorns and cheers the way ; And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray.
Page 36 - He talked to the son of Dr. Davenant, to be sent abroad, and took out his pocket-book and wrote down several things as memoranda, to do for him. He turned to the fire, and took out his gold watch, and telling him the time of the day, complained it was very late. A gentleman said, ' he was too fast.' ' How can I help it,' said the Doctor, ' if the Courtiers give me a watch that won't go right?

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