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Old Age, a second child, by nature curst With more and greater evils than the first, Weak, sickly, full of pains: in ev'ry breath Railing at life, and yet afraid of death.
Charles Churchill
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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Firsts
Full
Sickly
First
Child
Pains
Children
Greater
Evils
Life
Age
Breath
Evil
Breaths
Pain
Weak
Death
Afraid
Curst
Nature
Second
Railing
More quotes by Charles Churchill
Great use they have, when in the hands Of one like me, who understands, Who understands the time and place, The person, manner, and the grace, Which fools neglect so that we find, If all the requisites are join'd, From whence a perfect joke must spring, A joke's a very serious thing.
Charles Churchill
The best things carried to excess are wrong.
Charles Churchill
Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
Charles Churchill
Gipsies, who every ill can cure, Except the ill of being poor Who charms 'gainst love and agues sell, Who can in hen-roost set a spell, Prepar'd by arts, to them best known To catch all feet except their own, Who, as to fortune, can unlock it, As easily as pick a pocket.
Charles Churchill
Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
Charles Churchill
Enough of satire in less harden'd times Great was her force, and mighty were her rhymes. I've read of men, beyond man's daring brave, Who yet have trembled at the strokes she gave Whose souls have felt more terrible alarms From her one line, than from a world in arms.
Charles Churchill
Even in a hero's heart Discretion is the better part.
Charles Churchill
Though folly, robed in purple, shines, Though vice exhausts Peruvian mines, Yet shall they tremble and turn pale When satire wields her mighty flail.
Charles Churchill
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
Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
Charles Churchill
Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
Charles Churchill
Genius is of no country.
Charles Churchill
Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
Charles Churchill
If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
Charles Churchill
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.
Charles Churchill
Nature, through all her works, in great degree, Borrows a blessing from variety. Music itself her needful aid requires To rouse the soul, and wake our dying fires.
Charles Churchill
Satire, whilst envy and ill-humor sway The mind of man, must always make her way Nor to a bosom, with discretion fraught, Is all her malice worth a single thought. The wise have not the will, nor fools the power, To stop her headstrong course within the hour Left to herself, she dies opposing strife Gives her fresh vigor, and prolongs her life.
Charles Churchill
Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
Charles Churchill
Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
Charles Churchill
Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.
Charles Churchill