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.
Every gift, though it be small, is in reality great if given with affection.
Some one has said of a fine and honorable old age, that it was the childhood of immortality.
The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find,
Lies through their mouths or I mistake mankind.
To wear long faces, just as if our Maker,
The God of goodness, was an undertaker.
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!
No, let the monarch's bags and others hold
The flattering, mighty, nay, al-mighty gold.
The greatest men May ask a foolish question, now and then.
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.
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.
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.
A fellow in a market town, Most musical, cried razors up and down.
Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt,
And every grin so merry draws one out.
What rage for fame attends both great and small!
Better be damned than mentioned not at all.
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