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Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.

John Gay

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John Gay
Age: 47 †
Born: 1685
Born: June 30
Died: 1732
Died: December 4
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Barnstaple
Devon
Blow
Daisy
Grows
Meadow
Daisies
Meadows
Blows
Beside
Fairs
Fair
Buttercup

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Can love be controll'd by advice?
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Praising all alike, is praising none.
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Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
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A rich rogue nowadays is fit company for any gentleman and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine.
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Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
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Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.
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If the heart of a man is depressed with cares, The mist is dispelled when a woman appears.
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Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
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Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them!
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Learning by study must be won 'Twas ne'er entail'd from son to son.
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I cannot raise my worth too high Of what vast consequence am I! Not of the importance you suppose, Replies a Flea upon his nose Be humble, learn thyself to scan Know, pride was never made for man.
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In every age and clime we see Two of a trade can never agree.
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Fill ev'ry glass, for wine inspires us, And fires us With courage, love and joy. Women and wine should life employ. Is there ought else on earth desirous?
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The luxury of doing good surpasses every other personal enjoyment.
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Man may escape from rope and gun Nay, some have outlived the doctor's pill: Who takes a woman must be undone, That basilisk is sure to kill. The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets, So he that tastes woman, woman, woman, He that tastes woman, ruin meets.
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To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
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Is there no hope? the sick man said, The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow.
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To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride: Let Nature guide thee sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail.
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The charge is prepared the lawyers are met The judges all ranged (a terrible show!) I go, undismay'd. For death is a debt, A debt on demand. So take what I owe.
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No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.
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