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acquainted Addison admiration Alfred Tennyson appeared bard beautiful Ben Jonson Bishop Boswell Burke Byron Campbell character charm Coleridge conversation criticism delight diction Dryden Edinburgh Review elegant Elkanah Settle eloquence eminent English excellent expression exquisite eyes fancy feeling Garrick genius grace heart honour Horace Walpole human Hume humour Hurd imagination James Boswell Joanna Baillie John John Gay Johnson Lady Lady Blessington language learned letters literary lived Lord Lord Brougham Lord Byron Macaulay manner mind moral nature never numbers once opinion passion Paul Whitehead perhaps person philosopher Pindar poems poet poetical poetry political Pope praise prose Review Rogers satire Scott seems sense Shakspeare Sheridan Smith spirit style Swift talents talked taste things Thomas thought tion truth verse virtue Walpole Walter Savage Landor Warton William woman words Wordsworth writings written wrote
Page 272 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much ; Who, born for the Universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Page 75 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Page 29 - Many were the wit-combats betwixt him and Ben Jonson, which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war ; Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning ; solid, but slow in his performances.
Page 112 - He, who still wanting, though he lives on theft, Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left: And he, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning, Means not, but blunders round about a meaning...
Page 147 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Page 453 - ... think of thee with many fears For what may be thy lot in future years. I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality ; And Grief, uneasy lover ! never rest But when she sate within the touch of thee. O too industrious folly ! O vain and causeless melancholy ! Nature will either end thee quite : Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, Preserve for thee, by individual right, A young lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks.
Page 283 - 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 229 - Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man ; As an actor, confess'd without rival to shine : As a wit, if not first, in the very first line : Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings, a dupe to his art.