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Updated: May 27, 2025
The hoary Sire and aged Matron see Their prosp'rous Offering to the fourth Degree: With Grief sincere, the blooming offspring close Their Parent's Eyes, and pay their Debt of Woes; Then haste to honest, joyous Marriage Bands, A newborn Race is rear'd by careful Hands: Thro' num'rous Ages thus they'll happy move In active Bus'ness, and in chastest Love.
What man but Dorilaus would behave thus to the creature of his benevolence? If I have any merits, do not I owe them to his goodness? My brother and myself, two poor exposed and wretched foundlings, what but his bounty rear'd us to what we are? Hard fate! unlucky passion that drives me from his presence and protection.
Dark, heavy clouds were gathering in the west, Wrapping the forest in funereal gloom; Onward they roll'd and rear'd each livid crest, Like death's murk shadows frowning o'er earth's tomb: From out the inky womb of that deep night Burst livid flashes of electric flame: Whirling and circling with terrific might, In wild confusion on the tempest came.
When Donacha struck or threatened him a very common occurrence he did not answer with complaints and entreaties like other children, but with oaths and efforts at revenge he had all the wild merit, too, by which Woggarwolfe's arrow-bearing page won the hard heart of his master: Like a wild cub, rear'd at the ruffian's feet, He could say biting jests, bold ditties sing, And quaff his foaming bumper at the board, With all the mockery of a little man.*
* As this inscription is rife with excellent morality, I transcribe it for the admonition of delinquent tapsters. It is no doubt, the production of some choice spirit who once frequented the Boar's Head. Bacchus, to give the toping world surprise, Produced one sober son, and here he lies. Though rear'd among full hogsheads, he defy'd The charms of wine, and every one beside.
Though rear'd among full hogsheads, he defied The charms of wine, and every one beside. O reader, if to justice thou'rt inclined, Keep honest Preston daily in thy mind. He drew good wine, took care to fill his pots, Had sundry virtues that excused his faults. You that on Bacchus have the like dependence, Pray copy Bob, in measure and attendance."
The Prologue was the work of James Ralph, afterwards Fielding's colleague in the Champion, and it thus refers to the prevailing taste. The Beggar's Opera had killed Italian song, but now a new danger had arisen, "Humour and Wit, in each politer Age, Triumphant, rear'd the Trophies of the Stage: But only Farce, and Shew, will now go down, And Harlequin's the Darling of the Town."
Who gave this bright light luster unto thee, Admir'd, ador'd for ever, be that Majesty. Silent alone, where none or saw or heard, In pathless paths I lead my wandering feet; My humble eyes to lofty Skyes I rear'd, To sing some song my mazed Muse thought meet. My great Creator I would magnifie, That nature had thus decked liberally; But Ah, and Ah, again my imbecility.
Now neither an animal nor an instrument nor arms nor anything else is more fine, efficacious, or pleasanter, for the loss of a part. Yet speech, by taking away conjunctions, often becomes more persuasive, as here: One rear'd a dagger at a captive's breast; One held a living foe, that freshly bled With new-made wounds, another dragg'd a dead. And this of Demosthenes:
Ill did those mightie men to trust thee with their storie; Thou hast forgot their names who rear'd thee for their glorie; For all their wondrous cost, thou that hast serv'd them so, What 'tis to trust to tombes by thee we easily know."
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