Every gift, though it be small, is in reality great if given with affection.
Midas, they say, possessed the art of old; Of turning whatsoe'er he touch'd to gold; This modern statesmen can reverse with ease - Touch them with gold, they'll turn to what you please.
The greatest men May ask a foolish question, now and then.
The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find, Lies through their mouths or I mistake mankind.
Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish; And when an angler for his dish, Through gluttony's vile sin, Attempts, the wretch, to pull thee out, God give thee strength, O gentle trout, To pull the rascal in!
Thus every dog at last will have his day - He who this morning smiled, at night may sorrow; The grub today's a butterfly tomorrow.
No, let the monarch's bags and others hold The flattering, mighty, nay, al-mighty gold.
Some one has said of a fine and honorable old age, that it was the childhood of immortality.
To wear long faces, just as if our Maker, The God of goodness, was an undertaker.
Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt, And every grin so merry draws one out.
With vivid words your just conceptions grace, Much truth compressing in a narrow space; Then many shall peruse, but few complain, And envy frown, and critics snarl in vain.
A fellow in a market town, Most musical, cried razors up and down.
O delicious kiss, Why thou so sudden art gone? Lost in the moment thou art won?
People may have too much of a good thing: Full as an egg of wisdom thus I sing.
It is money makes the mare to trot.
What rage for fame attends both great and small! Better be damned than mentioned not at all.
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