Spenser.—Sonnet 35. Drayton has the same idea.

And plenty makes us poor.

Dryden.—The Medal, Line 126.

PLUMP.—As plump as stall’d theology.

Young.—The Christian Triumph, Night IV. Line 73.

POCKET.—Kill a man’s family, and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches’ pocket.

Byron.—Don Juan, Canto X. Stanza 79.

How melancholy are my poor breeches; not one chink !

Farquhar.—The Twin Rivals, Act I.

And yet you will stand to it, you will not pocket up wrong,

Shakespeare.—King Henry IV. Part I. Act III. Scene 3. (The Prince to Falstaff.)

Dry up thy tears, and pocket up th’ abuse,
Nor put thy friend to make a bad excuse.

Dryden’s Juvenal, Sat. XVI.

POET.—Widely extensive is the poet’s aim,
And in each verse he draws a bill on fame.

Lady Winchelsea to Pope.

Painters and poets have been still allow’d
Their pencils, and their fancies unconfin’d.

Roscommon.—Horace’s Art of Poetry, Line 10.

POET.—Painters and poets our indulgence claim,
Their daring equal, and their art the same.

Francis.—Horace’s Art of Poetry, Line 11.

They both are born artificers, not made.

Ben Jonson.—Discoveries.

In love with wild variety,
Draw boars in waves, and dolphins in a wood.

Roscommon.—Art of Poetry.

Though ’tis a fate that’s pretty sure,
If born a poet, to be poor;
I’d rather be a bard by birth,
Than live the richest dunce on earth.

Anonymous.—Collet’s Relics of Lit. 234.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.

Cowper.—The Task, Book II. Line 285.

Who live on fancy, and can feed on air.

Gay.—Epi. VII. Line 20.


  By PanEris using Melati.

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