THE WORKS OF THE Dr. Jonathan Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, Volume 6

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C. Bathurst, C. Hitch and L. Hawes, 1760
 

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Page 263 - I'll venture for the vole'.) Six deans, they say, must bear the pall : (I wish I knew what king to call.) Madam, your husband will attend The funeral of so good a friend.
Page 7 - Since men allege, they ne'er can find Those beauties in a female mind, Which raise a flame that will endure For ever uncorrupt and pure ; If 'tis with reason they complain, This infant shall restore my reign.
Page 254 - As Rochefoucault his maxims drew From nature, I believe them true : They argue no corrupted mind In him; the fault is in mankind. This maxim more than all the rest...
Page 260 - And had the Dean in all the nation No worthy friend, no poor relation? So ready to do strangers good, Forgetting his own flesh and blood...
Page 110 - 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Page 264 - Must undergo the common fate ; His kind of wit is out of date. Some country squire to Lintot goes, Inquires for 'Swift in Verse and Prose'. Says Lintot, ' I have heard the name ; He died a year ago.
Page 52 - And that they ne'er consider'd yet. ' Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown, Let my lord know you're come to town.
Page 262 - Here shift the scene, to represent How those I love, my death lament. Poor Pope will grieve a month; and Gay A week ; and Arbuthnot a day. St John himself will scarce forbear, To bite his pen, and drop a tear. The rest will give a shrug and cry I'm sorry; but we all must die.
Page 239 - So skilful, and those hands so taper ; " Do something exquisite and wise — " She bow'd, obey'd him, and cut paper. This vexing him who gave her birth, Thought by all Heaven a burning shame ; What does she next, but bids, on earth, Her Burlington do just the same.
Page 263 - tis a shocking sight, And he's engaged to-morrow night; My Lady Club will take it ill, If he should fail her at quadrille. He loved the Dean— (I lead a heart,) But dearest friends, they say, must part. His time was come: he ran his race; We hope he's in a better place.

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