| |
| | Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, |
| And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds. |
| 1 |
| | Born to excel, and to command! |
| As by transcendent beauty to attract |
| All eyes, so by pre-eminence of soul |
| To rule all hearts. |
| 2 |
| | Critics to plays for the same end resort |
| That surgeons wait on trials in a court; |
| For innocence condemned they’ve no respect, |
| Provided they’ve a body to dissect. |
| 3 |
| | Defer not till to-morrow to be wise, |
| To-morrow’s sun to thee may never rise. |
| 4 |
| | For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, |
| And though a late, a sure reward succeeds. |
| 5 |
| | Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn’d, |
| Nor hell a fury like a woman scorn’d. |
| 6 |
| | His pure thoughts were borne |
| Like fumes of sacred incense o’er the clouds, |
| And wafted thence on angels’ wings, through ways |
| Of light, to the bright source of all. |
| 7 |
| | How rev’rend is the face of this tall pile, |
| Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, |
| To bear aloft its arch’d and pond’rous roof! |
| By its own weight made steadfast and immovable. |
| Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe |
| And terror to my aching sight! The tombs |
| And monumental caves of death look cold, |
| And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart. |
| 8 |
| | Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, |
| To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. |
| 9 |
| | Shallow artifice begets suspicion, |
| And like a cobweb veil, but thinly shades |
| The face of thy design, alone disguising |
| What should have ne’er been seen, imperfect mischief. |
| 10 |
| | Thought |
| Precedes the will to think, and error lives |
| Ere reason can be born. Reason, the power |
| To guess at right and wrong, the twinkling lamp |
| Of wand’ring life, that winks and wakes by turns |
| Fooling the follower ’twixt shade and shining. |
| 11 |
| | When wit and reason both have fail’d to move |
| Kind looks and actions, (from success) do prove |
| Ev’n silence may be eloquent in love. |
| 12 |
| | Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails; |
| And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails. |
| 13 |
| A fellow who lives in a windmill has not a more whimsical dwelling than the heart of a man that is lodged in a woman. | 14 |
| And the prettiest foot; Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes to her feet as they steal in and out, and play at bo-peep under her petticoats, Ah! Mr. Trapland? | 15 |
| Ask me questions concerning to-morrow. | 16 |
| Grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure. | 17 |
| Guilt is ever at a loss, and confusion waits upon it. | 18 |
| He only is secret who never was trusted. | 19 |
| He that loses hope may part with anything. | 20 |
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| Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. | 21 |
| His wit run him out of his money, and now his poverty has run him out of his wits. | 22 |
| I am a fool, I know it; and yet, God help me, I’m poor enough to be a wit. | 23 |
| I am tipsy with laughing. | 24 |
| I came up-stairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar. | 25 |
| I know a lady that loves to talk so incessantly, she won’t give an echo fair play; she has that everlasting rotation of tongue that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words! | 26 |
| I like her, with all her faults: nay, like her for her faults. Her follies are so natural, or so artful, that they become her; and those affections which in another woman would be odious serve but to make her more agreeable. | 27 |
| If there’s delight in love, ’tis when I see the heart which others bleed for bleed for me. | 28 |
| It is, alas! the poor prerogative of greatness, to be wretched and unpitied. | 29 |
| Married in haste, we repent at leisure. | 30 |
| O call not to my mind what you have done! It sets a debt of that account before me, which shows me poor and bankrupt even in hopes! | 31 |
| O sleep, why dost thou leave me? why thy visionary joy remove? | 32 |
| Poetry, the eldest sister of all arts, and parent of most. | 33 |
| Read and take your nourishment in at your eyes; shut up your mouth and chew the cud of understanding. | 34 |
| Read, read, sirrah, and refine your appetite; learn to live upon instruction; frost your mind and mortify your flesh. | 35 |
| The coldness of a losing gamester lessens the pleasure of the winner. I would no more play with a man that slighted his ill fortune than I would make love to a woman who undervalued the loss of her reputation. | 36 |
| The falling-out of wits is like the falling-out of lovers: we agree in the main, like treble and bass. | 37 |
| They could neither of them speak for rage, and so fell a-sputtering at one another like two roasting apples. | 38 |
| Thought precedes the will to think, and error lives ere reason can be born. | 39 |
| Thy wife is a constitution of virtues: she’s the moon, and thou art the man in the moon. | 40 |
| Till sorrow seemed to wear one common face. | 41 |
| Timorous virgins form a dreadful chimera of a husband, as of a creature quite contrary to that soft, humble, pliant, easy thing, a lover. | 42 |
| Uncertainty and expectation are joys of life. Security is an insipid thing; and the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly of the chase. | 43 |
| Whoever is king, is also the father of his country. | 44 |
| Why, at this rate, a fellow that has but a groat in his pocket may have a stomach capable of a ten-shilling ordinary. | 45 |
| You are an annihilator of sense. | 46 |
| You read of but one wise man; and all that he knew was—that he knew nothing. | 47 |
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