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A filthy taint they soonest find Who are to relish filth inclined.
If truth for wealth we sacrifice, We throw away the richer prize.
And Gaffer Thrush directly found His throat, when raised above the ground, Gave forth a softer, sweeter sound. New tunes, moreover, he had caught, By perils and afflictions taught, And found new things to sing about: New scenes had brought new talents out.
Let Genius tell in verse and prose. How much to praise and friends it owes. Good sense may be, as I suppose, As much indebted to its foes.
"What thou givest to distinguished men, and what thou eatest every day--that, in my opinion, is thine own wealth: whose is the remainder which thou hoardest?"
A remarkable poet cannot but have been a remarkable man.
The richest gems do most honour to their polishing. But they are gems without any.
What will ye say, ye future days, If I, for once, in honest rhymes, Recount to you the deeds and ways Of our abominable times?
Great blemishes in other men we spy, Which in ourselves we pass most kindly by. As in this world we're but way-farers, Kind Heaven has made us wallet-bearers. The pouch behind our own defects must store, The faults of others lodge in that before.
The strongest reasons always yield To reasons of the strongest.
To argue or refute Wise counsellors abound; The man to execute Is harder to be found.
Of little folks it oft has been the fate To suffer for the follies of the great.
I see, the coward never skulk'd a foe That might not scare a coward still below.'
'Tis doubly sweet deceiver to deceive.
In mockery of change, the old Will keep their youthful bent. When once the cloth has got its fold, The smelling-pot its scent, In vain your efforts and your care To make them other than they are. To work reform, do what you will, Old habit will be habit still. Nor fork[27] nor strap can mend its manners, Nor cudgel-blows beat down its banners. Secure the doors against the renter, And through the windows it will enter.
There's always leakage of deceit Which makes it never safe to cheat. Whoever is a wolf had better Keep clear of hypocritic fetter.
Peace in itself, 'tis true, May be a good for you; But 'tis an evil, nathless, When enemies are faithless.
How would the kid have been undone Had she but trusted to the word The wolf by chance had overheard! Two sureties better are than one; And caution's worth its cost, Though sometimes seeming lost.
"Ye honest wolves, believe not all That mothers say, when children squall!"
There's nothing plentier than the name; There's nothing rarer than the thing.
Has one a stupid, empty pate, That serves him never till too late, He clears himself by blaming Fate!
A monarch provident and wise Will hold his subjects all of consequence, And know in each what talent lies. There's nothing useless to a man of sense.
Get what you can, and trust for the rest; The whole is oft lost by seeking the best.
The world is old, they say; I don't deny it;-- But, infant still In taste and will, Whoe'er would teach, must gratify it.[
There's nothing like a secret weighs; Too heavy 'tis for women tender; And, for this matter, in my days, I've seen some men of female gender.
Some seek for jokers; I avoid. A joke must be, to be enjoy'd, Of wisdom's words, by wit employ'd. God never meant for men of sense, The wits that joke to give offence.
A foolish friend may cause more woe Than could, indeed, the wisest foe.
Let fools the studious despise; There's nothing lost by being wise.
No prophet ever honour had Beneath his native sky.
Democritus, in truth, was wise; The mass were mad, with faith in lies.
All men, as far as in them lies, Create realities of dreams. To truth our nature proves but ice; To falsehood, fire it seems.
All things are made diverse to be.
An empty stomach hath no ear.[
All snarling dogs have ragged ears.
Sound reason and a tender heart With thee are friends that never part.
A place revered by winds, to sun unknown, They found the other saint, who lived alone. Forthwith they ask'd his sage advice. 'Your own,' he answer'd, 'must suffice; Who but yourselves your wants should know? To know one's self, is, here below, The first command of the Supreme. Have you obey'd among the bustling throngs? Such knowledge to tranquillity belongs; Elsewhere to seek were fallacy extreme. Disturb the water--do you see your face? See we ourselves within a troubled breast? A murky cloud in such a case, Though once it were a crystal vase! But, brothers, let it simply rest, And each
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Yet, in the stream of common wants when thrown, What busy mortal but forgets his own?
