Hudibras, Volumen2

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Página 184 - Th' intelligible world he knew, And all men dream on't to be true : That in this world there's not a wart That has not there a counterpart ; Nor can there on the face of ground An individual beard be found, That has not, in that foreign nation, A fellow of the self-same fashion ; So cut, so colour'd, and so curl'd, As those are in th...
Página 42 - Thought he, I understand your play, And how to quit you your own way. He that will win his dame, must do As Love does, when he bends his bow ; With one hand thrust the Lady from, And with the other pull her home. I grant...
Página 250 - There's but the twinkling of a star Between a man of peace and war, A thief and justice, fool and knave, A huffing officer and a slave, A crafty lawyer and pick-pocket, A great philosopher and a block-head, A formal preacher and a player, A learn'd...
Página 372 - And what would serve, if those were gone, To make it orthodox ? " " Our own." " What makes morality a crime, The most notorious of the time — Morality, which both the saints And wicked too cry out against ? " " 'Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin ; And therefore no true saint allows They shall be...
Página 92 - With pregnant light : The point is clear. Oaths are but words, and words but wind, Too feeble implements to bind, And hold with deeds proportion, so, As shadows to a substance do.
Página 52 - The sun and day shall sooner part, Than love, or you, shake off my heart ; The sun that shall no more...
Página 26 - As beards the nearer that they tend To th' earth still grow more reverend ; And cannons shoot the higher pitches, The lower we let down their breeches : I'll make this low dejected fate Advance me to a greater height.
Página 194 - His bus'ness was to pump and wheedle, And men with their own keys unriddle, To make them to themselves give answers, For which they pay the necromancers ; To fetch and carry intelligence, Of whom, and what, and where, and whence, And all discoveries disperse Among th...
Página 32 - To bid me not to love, Is to forbid my pulse to move, My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, Or (when I'm in a fit) to hickup.
Página 146 - A tailor's prentice has no hard Measure, that's bang'd with a true yard ; But to turn tail, or run away, And without blows give up the day, Or to surrender ere th...

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