| |
| | Ambition is a lust that’s never quenched, |
| Grows more inflamed, and madder by enjoyment. |
| 1 |
| | Avoid the politic, the factious fool, |
| The busy, buzzing, talking harden’d knave; |
| The quaint smooth rogue that sins against his reason, |
| Calls saucy loud sedition public zeal, |
| And mutiny the dictates of his spirit. |
| 2 |
| | Greatness, thou gaudy torment of our souls, |
| The wise man’s fetter, and the rage of fools. |
| 3 |
| | How many men |
| Have spent their blood in their dear country’s service, |
| Yet now pine under want; while selfish slaves, |
| That even would cut their throats whom now they fawn on, |
| Like deadly locusts, eat the honey up, |
| Which those industrious bees so hardly toil’d for. |
| 4 |
| | Like conquering tyrants you our breasts invade, |
| Where you are pleas’d to ravage for awhile; |
| But soon you find new conquests out and leave |
| The ravag’d province ruinate and bare. |
| 5 |
| | My eyes won’t lose the sight of thee, |
| But languish after thine, and ache with gazing. |
| 6 |
| | O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee |
| To temper man; we had been brutes without you. |
| Angels are painted fair to look like you: |
| There’s in you all that we believe of heaven, |
| Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, |
| Eternal joy, and everlasting love. |
| 7 |
| | The pain is in my head; ’tis is in my heart; |
| ’Tis everywhere; it rages like a madness, |
| And I most wonder how my reason holds. |
| 8 |
| | You talk to me in parables. |
| You may have known that I’m no wordy man, |
| Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves |
| Or fools that use them, when they want good sense; |
| But honesty |
| Needs no disguise nor ornament: be plain. |
| 9 |
| Base natures ever judge a thing above them, and hate a power they are too much obliged to. | 10 |
| Children blessings seem, but torments are. | 11 |
| Clocks will go as they are set; but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain. | 12 |
| Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end. | 13 |
| Cowards are scared with threatenings; boys are whipped into confession; but a steady mind acts of itself, ne’er asks the body counsel. | 14 |
| Dame Fortune, like most others of the female sex, is generally most indulgent to the nimble-mettled blockheads. | 15 |
| False as the adulterate promises of favorites in power when poor men court them. | 16 |
| Fine speeches are the instruments of fools or knaves, who use them when they want good sense; but honesty needs no disguise or ornament. | 17 |
| Honesty needs no disguise or ornament. | 18 |
| I know not how to tell thee! Shame rises in my face, and interrupts the story of my tongue! | 19 |
| If we must part forever, give me but one kind word to think upon and please myself with, while my heart is breaking. | 20 |
| |
|
|
| |
| Indeed, you thanked me; but a nobler gratitude rose in her soul, for from that hour she loved me. | 21 |
| Justice is lame as well as blind among us. | 22 |
| Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart. | 23 |
| No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it; it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal. | 24 |
| Revenge, the attribute of gods! they stamped it with their great image on our natures. | 25 |
| She who has beauty might ensnare a conqueror’s soul, and make him leave his crown at random, to be scuffled for by slaves. | 26 |
| The queen of night shines fair with all her virgin stars about her. | 27 |
| The worst thing an old man can be is a lover. | 28 |
| There is such sweet pain in parting that I could hang forever on thine arms, and look away my life into thine eyes. | 29 |
| Welcome as happy tidings after fears. | 30 |
| Who’s a prince or beggar in the grave? | 31 |
| |
