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What Nature bids is good, is wise, and faultless we obey.
John Armstrong
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John Armstrong
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More quotes by John Armstrong
Much had he read, Much more had he seen he studied from the life, And in th' original perus'd mankind.
John Armstrong
Your friends avoid you, brutishly transform'd They hardly know you, or if one remains To wish you well, he wishes you in heaven.
John Armstrong
Our greatest good, and what we least can spare, Is hope: the last of all our evils, fear.
John Armstrong
The most beautiful form of compromise is forgiveness.
John Armstrong
Virtue and sense are one and, trust me, still A faithless heart betrays the head unsound.
John Armstrong
How happy he whose toil Has o'er his languid pow'rless limbs diffus'd A pleasing lassitude he not in vain Invokes the gentle Deity of dreams. His pow'rs the most voluptuously dissolve In soft repose on him the balmy dews Of Sleep with double nutriment descend.
John Armstrong
To please the fancy is no trifling good, Where health is studied for whatever moves The mind with calm delight, promotes the just And natural movements of th'harmonious frame.
John Armstrong
Impious! forbear thus the first general hail. To disappoint, Increase and multiply, To shed thy blossoms thro' the desert air, And sow thy perish'd offspring in the winds.
John Armstrong
The blood, the fountain whence the spirits flow The generous stream that waters every part, And motion, vigor, and warm life conveys To every particle that moves or lives.
John Armstrong
Know, then, whatever cheerful and serene supports the mind supports the body too.
John Armstrong
Hope is the first thing to take some sort of action.
John Armstrong
Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels diseases, softens every pain.
John Armstrong
If from thy secret bed Of luxury unbidden offspring rise, Let them be kindly welcom'd to the day.
John Armstrong
Good native Taste, tho' rude, is seldom wrong, Be it in music, painting, or in song: But this, as well as other faculties, Improves with age and ripens by degrees.
John Armstrong
Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul, Is the best gift of Heaven: a happiness That even above the smiles and frowns of fate Exalts great Nature's favourites: a wealth That ne'er encumbers, nor can be transferr'd.
John Armstrong
Autumn ripens in the summer's ray.
John Armstrong
How sickly grow, How pale, the plants in those ill-fated vales That, circled round with the gigantic heap Of mountains, never felt, nor ever hope To feel, the genial vigor of the sun!
John Armstrong
There are, while human miseries abound, A thousand ways to waste superfluous wealth, Without one fool or flatterer at your board, Without one hour of sickness or disgust.
John Armstrong
Then love of pleasure sways each heart, and we From that no more than from ourselves can fly. Blameless when govern'd well. But where it errs Extravagant, and wildly leads to ill, Public or private, there its curbing pow'r Cool reason must exert.
John Armstrong
For wisest ends this universal Power Gave appetites, from whose quick impulse life Subsists, by which we only live, all life Insipid else, unactive, unenjoy'd. Hence to this peopled earth, which, that extinct, That flame for propagation, soon would roll A lifeless mass, and vainly cumber heaven.
John Armstrong
