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CHARLES CHURCHILL
English poet and satirist
(1731 - 1764)
  Displaying page 1 of 5    Next Page >> 

A critic was of old a glorious name,
  Whose sanction handed merit up to fame;
    Beauties as well as faults he brought to view
      His judgment great, and great his candor too.
        No servile rules drew sickly taste aside;
          Secure he walked, for nature was his guide.
            But now, O strange reverse! our critics bawl
              In praise of candor with a heart of gall,
                Conscious of guilt, and fearful of the light;
                  They lurk enshrouded in the veil of night;
                    Safe from destruction, seize th' unwary prey,
                      And stab like bravoes, all who come that way.
      - [Critics]

A heart to pity, and a hand to bless.
      - [Heart]

A jest is a very serious thing.
      - [Jesting]

A six-foot suckling, mincing in its gait,
  Affected, peevish, prim and delicate;
    Fearful it seemed tho' of athletic make,
      Lest brutal breezes should so roughly shake
        Its tender form, and savage motion spread
          O'er its pale cheeks, the horrid manly red.
      - [Fops]

But though bare merit might in Rome appear
  The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
    We form our judgment in another way;
      And they will best succeed, who best can pay;
        Those, who would gain the votes of British tribes,
          Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
      - [Corruption]

Censure is often useful, praise often deceitful.
      - [Censure]

Childhood, who like an April morn appears,
  Sunshine and rain, hopes clouded o'er with fears.
      - [Children]

Drawn by conceit from reason's plan
  How vain is that poor creature man;
    How pleas'd in ev'ry paltry elf
      To grate about that thing himself.
      - [Conceit]

England, a fortune-telling host,
  As num'rous as the stars could boast;
    Matrons, who toss the cup, and see
      The grounds of fate in grounds of tea.
      - [Superstition]

England, a happy land we know,
  Where follies naturally grow,
    Where without culture they arise,
      And tow'r above the common size.
      - [England]

Enough of satire; in less harden'd times
  Great was her force, and mighty were her rhymes.
    I've read of men, beyond man's daring brave,
      Who yet have trembled at the strokes she gave;
        Whose souls have felt more terrible alarms
          From her one line, than from a world in arms.
      - [Satire]

Enough of self, that darling luscious theme,
  O'er which philosophers in raptures dream;
    Of which with seeming disregard they write
      Then prizing most when most they seem to slight.
      - [Selfishness]

Even in a hero's heart
  Discretion is the better part.
      - [Discretion]

Explore the dark recesses of the mind,
  In the soul's honest volume read mankind,
    And own, in wise and simple, great and small,
      The same grand leading principle in all;
 * * * * *
For parent and for child, for wife and friend,
  Our first great mover, and our last great end
    Is one; and by whatever name we call
      The ruling tyrant, Self, is all in all.
      - [Self : Selfishness]

Genius is independent of situation.
      - [Genius]

Gipsies, who every ill can cure,
  Except the ill of being poor
    Who charms 'gainst love and agues sell,
      Who can in hen-roost set a spell,
        Prepar'd by arts, to them best known
          To catch all feet except their own,
            Who, as to fortune, can unlock it,
              As easily as pick a pocket.
      - [Gypsies]

He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
      - [Praise]

How pleased is every paltry elf
  To prate about that thing, himself!
      - [Selfishness]

I'll make them live as brothers should with brother,
  And keep them in good-humor with each other.
      - [Temper]

If honor calls, where'er she points the way
  The sons of honor follow, and obey.
      - [Honor]

If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
      - [Flattery]

In the first seat, in robe of various dyes,
  A noble wildness flashing from his eyes,
    Sat Shakespeare: in one hand a wand he bore,
      For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore:
        The other held a globe, which to his will
          Obedient turn'd, and own'd the master's skill:
            Things of the noblest kind his genius drew,
              And look'd through nature at a single view:
                A loose he gave to his unbounded soul,
                  And taught new lands to rise, new seas to roll;
                    Call'd into being scenes unknown before,
                      And passing nature's bounds, was something more.
      - [Shakespeare]

Knaves starve not in the land of fools.
      - [Knavery]

Mutually giving and receiving aid,
  They set each other off, like light and shade.
      - [Proverbs]

Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd
  And wonder'd at the work herself had made.
      - [Shakespeare]


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