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Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends He hurts me most who lavishly commends.

Charles Churchill

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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Hurt
Lavishly
Friends
Dreads
Foes
Foe
Greatly
Hurts
Dread
Friendship
Commends

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And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word.
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Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.
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Truth! why shall every wretch of letters Dare to speak truth against his betters! Let ragged virtue stand aloof, Nor mutter accents of reproof Let ragged wit a mute become, When wealth and power would have her dumb.
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Genius is of no country.
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With that malignant envy which turns pale, And sickens, even if a friend prevail.
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Enough of self, that darling luscious theme, O'er which philosophers in raptures dream Of which with seeming disregard they write Then prizing most when most they seem to slight.
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With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
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Genius is independent of situation.
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The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
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Whom drink made wits, though nature made them fools.
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Constant attention wears the active mind, Blots out our pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind.
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Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own.
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The surest way to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill Most of the ills which we poor mortals know From doctors and imagination flow.
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Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
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Who to patch up his fame, or fill his purse, Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, Defacing first, then claiming for his own.
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Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
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When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, men will believe, because they love the lie but truth herself, if clouded with a frown, must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
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Tis mighty easy o'er a glass of wine On vain refinements vainly to refine, To laugh at poverty in plenty's reign, To boast of apathy when out of pain, And in each sentence, worthy of the schools, Varnish'd with sophistry, to deal out rules Most fit for practice, but for one poor fault That into practice they can ne'er be brought.
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Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
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The oak, when living, monarch of the wood The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
Charles Churchill