Stephen Smith’s Reviews > The Complete English Poems > Status Update

“In so much dregs the quintessence is small:
The spirit and good extract of my heart
Comes to about the many hundredth part.
Yet Lord restore thine image, hear my call:
And though my hard heart scarce to thee can groan,
Remember that thou once didst write in stone.”

“Wit’s an unruly engine, wildly striking Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer. Hast thou the knack? pamper it not with liking: But, if thou want it, buy it not too dear. Many, affecting wit beyond their power, Have got to be a dear fool for an hour.”