The Baviad: A Paraphrastic Imitation of the First Satire of Persius ...

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R. Faulder, 1791 - 51 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 22 - ... belle' hoc excute totum: quid non intus habet? non hie est Ilias Atti 50 ebria veratro? non siqua elegidia crudi dictarunt proceres? non quidquid denique lectis scribitur in citreis? calidum scis ponere sumen, scis comitem horridulum trita donare lacerna, et 'verum' inquis 'amo, verum mihi dicite de me.
Strana 28 - I have too much refpefl for my reader to affront him with any fpecimens of this man's poetry, at once licentious and dull beyond example : at the fame time I cannot refift the temptation of prefenting him...
Strana 46 - ... hie tamen infodiam. vidi, vidi ipse, libelle: 120 auriculas asini quis non habet? hoc ego opertum, hoc ridere meum, tarn nil, nulla tibi vendo Iliade.
Strana 13 - Doom for a breath A hundred reasoning hecatombs to death.
Strana 7 - See snivelling Jerningham at fifty weep O'er love-lorn oxen and deserted sheep ; (See Cowley frisk it to one ding-dong chime, And weekly cuckold her poor spouse in rhyme ;) See Thrale's...
Strana 10 - Of this poem no reader (provided he can read) Is at this time ignorant; but as there are various opinions concernIng It, and as I do not choose, perhaps, to dispute with a lady of Mrs.
Strana 43 - Come then, around their works a circle draw, And near it plant the dragons of the law ; With labels writ, " Critics far hence remove, Nor dare to censure what the great approve.
Strana 22 - Hoiu horriblt hit world can be : While I will GLORY TO BLASPHEME, AND MAKE THE joys OF HELL MY THEME.** ' The reader, perhaps, wonders what dreadful event gave birth.
Strana 23 - VALUABLE poems calls a charming composition, abounding in lines of exquisite beauty, is the following rant : "Conjure up demons from the main; Storms upon storms indignant heap, Bid ocean howl, and nature weep, Till the Creator blush to see How terrible his world can be : While I will glory to blaspheme, And make the joys of hell my theme.
Strana 29 - Be full as hard, and near as thick, as thine ; " Yet has the world admiring on it read " Many a keen gibe, and many a sportive line. " While nothing from thy jobbernowl can spring " But impudence and filth ; for out, alas! " Do what we will, 'tis still the same vile thing, " Within, all brickdust—and without, all brass.

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