Lacon: or, Many things in few words, Volume 2

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme&Brown, 1823
 

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Page 4 - I want a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one: Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan — We all have seen him, in the Pantomime Sent to the devil, somewhat ere his time.
Page 99 - And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it ; to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefixed to my tables of examination, for daily use.
Page 37 - And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die.
Page 18 - Man's love is of man's life a thing apart ; 'Tis woman's whole existence...
Page 23 - There's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms As rum and true religion : thus it was, Some plunder'ed, some drank spirits, some sung psalms, The high wind made the treble, and as bass The hoarse harsh waves kept time ; fright cured the qualms Of all the luckless landsmen's sea-sick maws : Strange sounds of wailing, blasphemy, devotion, Clamour'd in chorus to the roaring ocean.
Page 121 - Liberty will not descend to a people, a people must raise themselves to liberty ; It is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed.
Page 13 - Lucretius' irreligion is too strong For early stomachs, to prove wholesome food ; I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong, Although no doubt his real intent was good, For speaking out so plainly in his song, So much indeed as to be downright rude ; And then what proper person can be partial To all those nauseous epigrams of Martial ? XLIV.
Page 10 - I'ma plain man, and in a single station, But — Oh ! ye lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-pecked you all...
Page 39 - Alas! the love of women! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone...
Page 96 - The tent-ropes flapping lone I hear For twilight converse, arm in arm ; The jackal's shriek bursts on mine ear When mirth and music wont to charm. By Cherical's dark wandering streams, Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild, Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams...

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