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[The] play of limbs succeeds the play of wit.
The three black graces, Law, Physic, and Divinity.
- Punch's Holiday [Grace]
Hence, dear delusion, sweet enchantment hence!
- Rejected Addresses--An Address without a Phoenix--By "S.T.P.",
(not an imitation, initials used to puzzle critics)
When to raise the wind some lawyer tries,
Mysterious skins of parchment meet our eyes;
On speeds the smiling suit--
. . . .
Till stript--nonsuited--he is doomed to toss
In legal shipwreck, and redeemless loss,
Lucky, if like Ulysses, he can keep
His head above the waters of the deep.
- Rejected Addresses--Architectural Atoms,
(translation by Dr. B.T.) [Law]
Orlando's helmet in Augustine's cowl.
- Rejected Addresses--Cui Bono--Imitation of Byron
Thinking is but an idle waste of thought,
And naught is everything, and everything is naught.
- Rejected Addresses--Cui Bono?,
(imitation of Byron) [Thought]
For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean,
Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave,
Whose sons unaccustom'd to rebel commotion,
Tho' joyous, are sober--tho' peaceful, are brave.
- Rejected Addresses--Imitation of Moore
In the name of the Prophet--figs.
- Rejected Addresses--Johnson's Ghost
Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous work!
God bless the Regent, and the Duke of York.
- Rejected Addresses--Loyal Effusion (l. 1)
I saw them go; one horse was blind,
The tails of both hung down behind,
Their shoes were on their feet.
- Rejected Addresses--The Baby's Debut
For time would, with us, 'stead of sand,
Put filings of steel in his glass,
To dry up the blots of his hand,
And spangle life's page as they pass.
Since all flesh is grass ere 'tis hay,
O may I in clover lie snug,
And when old Time mow me away,
Be stacked with defunct Land Mugg!
- Rejected Addresses--The Beautiful Incendiary, by the Hon. W.S.
The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
By woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize
To tempt us in theatre, senate, or college--
I mean the love-apples that bloom in the eyes.
- Rejected Addresses--The Living Lustres by T.M.
Midnight, yet not a nose
From Tower Hill to Piccadilly snored!
- Rejected Addresses--The Rebuilding,
(imitation of Southey) [Midnight]
Lax in their gaiters, laxer in their gait.
- Rejected Addresses--The Theatre
See to their desks Apollo's sons repair,
Swift rides the rosin o'er the horse's hair!
In unison their various tones to tune,
Murmurs the hautboy, growls the hoarse bassoon;
In soft vibration sighs the whispering lute,
Tang goes the harpischord, too-too flute,
Brays the loud trumpet, squeaks the fiddle sharp,
Winds the French-horn, and twangs the tingling harp;
Till, like great Jove, the leader, figuring in,
Attunes to order the chaotic din.
- Rejected Addresses--The Theatre (l. 20)