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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
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John Armstrong
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More quotes by 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.
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The most beautiful form of compromise is forgiveness.
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Virtue and sense are one and, trust me, still A faithless heart betrays the head unsound.
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Autumn ripens in the summer's ray.
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Know, then, whatever cheerful and serene supports the mind supports the body too.
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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.
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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
If from thy secret bed Of luxury unbidden offspring rise, Let them be kindly welcom'd to the day.
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Much had he read, Much more had he seen he studied from the life, And in th' original perus'd mankind.
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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.
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Your friends avoid you, brutishly transform'd They hardly know you, or if one remains To wish you well, he wishes you in heaven.
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Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels diseases, softens every pain.
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Hope is the first thing to take some sort of action.
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Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones, And tottering empires rush by their own weight.
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You can't help people that don't want to be helped.
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Our greatest good, and what we least can spare, Is hope: the last of all our evils, fear.
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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.
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What Nature bids is good, is wise, and faultless we obey.
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Ye who amid this feverish world would wear A body free of pain, of cares a mind, Fly the rank city, shun its turbid air Breathe not the chaos of eternal smoke And volatile corruption, from the dead, The dying, sickening, and the living world Exhal'd, to sully heaven's transparent dome With dim mortality.
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