طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
abuse Æneid Alluding ancient Aristarchus bard Bavius behold Bowles called cause Chaos character Cibber Codrus Concanen Court Curl Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness Dunce Dunciad edition Epic Epigram Essay on Criticism ev'ry eyes folly fool former Edd friends genius gentleman Gildon Goddess hath head Heav'n Hero Homer honour Ibid Iliad IMITATIONS King Laureate learned Leonard Welsted Letter LEWIS THEOBALD lines Lord manner Milton Mist's Journal moral Muse nature never notes o'er octavo Oldmixon Ovid P. W. Ver P.t Ver passage person philosopher poem poet Poet Laureate poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise Pref Prince printed published Queen reader REMARKS ridicule saith satire says SCRIBLERUS Shakespear shew sons soul Swift taste thee Theobald thing thou thought thro Tibbald tion translation true truth verses Virg Virgil virtue Wakefield Warburton Warton Welsted whole words writ writer
الصفحة 337 - 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 restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word; Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall, And universal Darkness buries all.
الصفحة 292 - The critic Eye, that microscope of Wit, Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit...
الصفحة 297 - Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement, ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind. Then take him to develop, if you can, And hew the block off, and get out the man. 270 But wherefore waste I words? I see advance Whore, pupil, and laced governor from France. Walker! our hat' nor more he deigned to say, But, stern as Ajax
الصفحة 243 - I turn my ravish'd eyes, gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, poetic fields encompass me around, and still I seem to tread on classic ground; for here the Muse so oft her harp has strung, that not a mountain rears its head unsung, renown'd in verse each shady thicket grows, and every stream in heavenly numbers flows.
الصفحة 289 - Thy mighty scholiast, whose unwearied pains Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains. Turn what they will to verse, their toil is vain, Critics like me shall make it prose again.
الصفحة 301 - To lands of singing, or of dancing slaves, Love-whispering woods, and lute-resounding waves. But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the lion of the deeps; Where, eased of fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth eunuch and enamour'd swain.
الصفحة 12 - A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ ; Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind ; Nor lose, for that malignant dull delight, The generous pleasure to be charm'd with wit.
الصفحة 291 - While towering o'er your alphabet, like Saul, Stands our Digamma, and o'ertops them all. Tis true, on words is still our whole debate, Disputes of me or te, of aut or at, To sound or sink in cano, O or A, Or give up Cicero to C or K.
الصفحة 269 - When lo! a Harlot form soft sliding by, With mincing step, small voice, and languid eye: Foreign her air, her robe's discordant pride In patch-work flutt'ring, and her head aside: By singing Peers up-held on either hand, She tripp'd and laugh'd, too pretty much to stand: Cast on the prostrate Nine a scornful look, Then thus in quaint Recitative spoke. "O Cora! Cara! silence all that train: Joy to great Chaos! let Division reign...