Poems, 1±Ç

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John Jones, 1790 - 298ÆäÀÌÁö

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183 ÆäÀÌÁö - He says but little, and that little said Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead. His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock it never is at home...
256 ÆäÀÌÁö - On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.
135 ÆäÀÌÁö - He loved the world that hated him : the tear That dropped upon his Bible was sincere : Assailed by scandal and the tongue of strife, His only answer was, a blameless life ; And he that forged, and he that threw the dart, Had each a brother's interest in his heart.
56 ÆäÀÌÁö - Hear the just law — the judgment of the skies! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies ; And he that -will be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as hell shall bind him fast.
191 ÆäÀÌÁö - The night, they said, is near, We must not now be parted, sojourn here — The new acquaintance soon became a guest, And, made so welcome at their simple feast, He...
72 ÆäÀÌÁö - Just knows, and knows no more, her bible true, A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew, And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes, Her title to a treasure in the skies.
264 ÆäÀÌÁö - Had cheered the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark, So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
81 ÆäÀÌÁö - Since the dear hour, that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but thine, Nor hoped but in thy righteousness divine...
251 ÆäÀÌÁö - Bound on a voyage of awful length And dangers little known, A stranger to superior strength, Man vainly trusts his own.
174 ÆäÀÌÁö - Ye powers, who rule the tongue, — if such there are, — And make colloquial happiness your care, Preserve me from the thing I dread and hate, A duel in the form of a debate.

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