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Praise Him, each savage furious beast That on His stores do daily feast And you tame slaves, of the laborious plough, Your weary knees to your Creator bow.

Wentworth Dillon, 4th Earl of Roscommon

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Wentworth Dillon, 4th Earl of Roscommon
Age: 48 †
Born: 1637
Born: January 1
Died: 1685
Died: January 18
Author
Poet
Stores
Furious
Creator
Savage
Daily
Savages
Slave
Bows
Praise
Slaves
Plough
Worship
Weary
Laborious
Beast
Tame
Knees
Feast

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Those things which now seem frivolous and slight, Will be of serious consequence to you, When they have made you once ridiculous.
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Choose an author as you would a friend.
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Beware what spirit rages in your breast for one inspired, ten thousand are possessed.
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Tis I that call, remember Milo's end, Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.
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Words once spoken can never be recalled.
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Invention is not so much the result of labor as of judgment.
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Our heroes of the former days deserved and gained their never-fading bays.
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The press, the pulpit, and the stage, Conspire to censure and expose our age.
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What you keep by you, you may change and mend but words, once spoken, can never be recalled.
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Men still had faults, and men will have them still He that hath none, and lives as angels do, Must be an angel.
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The first great work (a task performed by few) Is that yourself may to yourself be true.
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I will not quarrel with a slight mistake, Such as our nature's frailty may excuse.
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Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express With painful care, but seeming easiness For truth shines brightest thro' the plainest dress.
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The multitude is always wrong.
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Immodest words admit of no defence, For want of decency is want of sense.
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Let us not write at a loose rambling rate, in hope the world will wink at all our faults.
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You must not think that a satiric style allows of scandalous and brutish words the better sort abhor scurrility.
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Sound judgment is the ground of writing well.
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Whatsoever contradicts my sense, I hate to see, and never can believe.
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We weep and laugh, as we see others do.
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