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Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.

Charles Churchill

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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Unsound
Throne
Thrones
Solid
Ground
Weak
Virtue
Takes

More quotes by Charles Churchill

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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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He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
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No two on earth in all things can agree All have some darling singularity Women and men, as well as girls and boys, In gewgaws take delight, and sigh for toys, Your sceptres and your crowns, and such like things, Are but a better kind of toys for kings. In things indifferent reason bids us choose, Whether the whim's a monkey or a muse.
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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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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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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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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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Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own.
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Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
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Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
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Patience is sorrow's salve.
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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 oak, when living, monarch of the wood The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
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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.
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Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
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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.
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It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
Charles Churchill
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The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
Charles Churchill
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Even in a hero's heart Discretion is the better part.
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Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford and reputation bleeds in every word.
Charles Churchill