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DR. JOHN WOLCOT (WOLCOTT OR WOOLCOTT)
(USED PSEUDONYM PETER PINDAR)
English physician and satiric poet
(1738 - 1819)
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By giving sixty-five's pale wither'd mien,
  The blooming roses of sixteen.
      - [Affectation]

Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary's prayer,
  And, though death's image, to my couch repair;
    How sweet, thought lifeless, yet with life to lie,
      And, without dying, O how sweet to die!
      - translation of Thomas Warton's Latin Epigram on Sleep for a statue of Somnus in the garden of Mr. Harris
        [Sleep]

E'en grave divines submit to glittering gold,
  The best of consciences are bought and sold.
      - [Corruption]

Hope told a flattering tale
  That joy would soon return;
    Ah, naught my sighs avail
      For love is doomed to mourn.
      - song introduced into the opera, "Artaxerxes"
        [Hope]

How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie; and without dying, oh, how sweet to die!
      - [Sleep]

Sirs, adulation, is a fatal thing--
  Rank poison for a subject, or a king.
      - [Flattery]

Talk no more of the lucky escape of the head
  From a flint so unhappily thrown;
    I think very different from thousands; indeed
      'Twas a lucky escape for the stone.
      - on a stone thrown at King George III
        [Poison]

The turnpike road to people's hearts I find
  Lies through their mouths, or I mistake mankind.
      - [Eating]

There health, so wild and gay, with bosom bare
  And rosy cheek, keen eye, and flowing hair,
    Trips with a smile the breezy scene along
      And pours the spirit of content in song.
      - [Country]

To wear long faces, just as if our Maker
  The God of goodness, was an undertaker,
    Well pleas'd to wrap the soul's unlucky mien
      In sorrow's dismal crape or bombazine.
      - [Cant]

Wedlock's a saucy, sad, familiar state,
  Where folks are very apt to scold and hate.
      - [Matrimony]

The sages say, Dame Truth delights to dwell
  (Strange Mansion!) in the bottom of a well:
    Questions are then the Windlass and the rope
      That pull the grave old Gentlewoman up.
      - Birthday Ode [Truth]

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt;
  And every Grin, so merry, draws one out.
      - Expostulatory Odes (ode 15) [Care : Laughter]

A fellow in a market town.
  Most musical, cried Razors up and down.
      - Farewell Odes (ode 3) [Barber]

You cannot make, my Lord, I fear, a velvet purse of a sow's ear.
      - Lord B. and his Notions [Impossibility]

Blessed are those that nought expect,
  For they shall not be disappointed.
      - Ode to Pitt [Expectation]

It is money makes the mare to trot.
      - Ode to Pitt [Money]

I feel in every smile a chain.
      - Pindariana [Smiles]

People may have too much of a good thing:
  Full as an egg of wisdom thus I sing.
      - Subjects for Painters--The Gentleman and his Wife
        [Possession]

The greatest men
  May ask a foolish question, now and then.
      - The Apple Dumpling and the King [Folly]

"Very astonishing indeed! strange thing!"
  (Turning the Dumpling round, rejoined the King),
    "'Tis most extraordinary, then, all this is;
      It beats Penetti's conjuring all to pieces;
        Strange I should never of a Dumpling dream!
          But, Goody, tell me where, where, where's the Seam?"
            "Sire, there's no Seam," quoth she; "I never knew
              That folks did Apple-Dumplings sew."
                "No!" cried the staring Monarch with a grin;
                  "How, how the devil got the Apple in?"
      - The Apple Dumplings and a King [Cookery]

I think this piece will help to boil thy pot.
      - The bard complimenteth Mr. West on his Lord Nelson
        [Money]

Discord, a sleepless hag who never dies,
  With Snipe-like nose, and Ferret-glowing eyes,
    Lean sallow cheeks, long chin with beard supplied,
      Poor crackling joints, and wither'd parchment hide,
        As if old Drums, worn out with martial din,
          Had clubb'd their yellow Heads to form her Skin.
      - The Louisad (canto III, l. 121)
        [Dissension]

Rank is a farce; if people Fools will be
  A Scavenger and King's the same to me.
      - Title Page--Peter's Prophecy [Ancestry]

No, let the monarch's bags and coffers hold
  The flattering, mighty, nay, all-mighty gold.
      - To Kieu Long (ode IV) [Money]


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