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Drawn by conceit from reason's plan How vain is that poor creature man How pleas'd in ev'ry paltry elf To grate about that thing himself.

Charles Churchill

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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Creatures
Pleas
Plans
Grate
Poor
Paltry
Reason
Conceit
Thing
Creature
Men
Drawn
Vain
Plan

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Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
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The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride True is the charge, nor by themselves denied. Are they not then in strictest reason clear, Who wisely come to mend their fortunes here?
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England a fortune-telling host, As num'rous as the stars, could boast Matrons, who toss the cup, and see The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea.
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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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The best things carried to excess are wrong.
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Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
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Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
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With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
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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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It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
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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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He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone.
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Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
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Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
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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 independent of situation.
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The oak, when living, monarch of the wood The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
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And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word.
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Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
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What is this world?--A term which men have got, To signify not one in ten knows what A term, which with no more precision passes To point out herds of men than herds of asses In common use no more it means, we find, Than many fools in same opinions joined.
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