Charles Churchill Quotes

He sickened at all triumphs but his own.

Amongst the sons of men how few are known
Who dare be just to merit not their own?

Where he falls short, 'tis Nature's fault alone;
Where he succeeds, the merit's all his own.

Drawn by Conceit from Reason's plan,
How vain is that poor creature, Man!
How pleased is every paltry elf
To prate about that thing, himself.

There webs were spread of more than common size,
And half-starved spiders prey’d on half-starved flies.

Grave without thought, and without feeling, gay.

He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone.

But, spite of all the criticising elves,
Those who would make us feel—must feel themselves.

It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.

No statesman e'er will find it worth his pains To tax our labours and excise our brains.

When fiction rises pleasing to the eye,
Men will believe, because they love the lie;
But Truth herself, if clouded with a frown,
Must have some solemn proof to pass her down.

The two extremes appear like man and wife,
Coupled together for the sake of strife.

Wherever waves can roll, and winds can blow.

Be England what she will,
With all her faults she is my country still.

So much they talked, so very little said.