Winthrop Mackworth Praed Quotes

She was our queen, our rose, our star;
And then she danced—O Heaven, her dancing!

Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,
And some before the speaker.

Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy,
And always blind, and often tipsy;
Sometimes for years and years together,
She ’ll bless you with the sunniest weather,
Bestowing honour, pudding, pence,
You can’t imagine why or whence;—
Then in a moment—Presto, pass!—
Your joys are withered like the grass;

His partners at the whist-club said
That he was faultless in his dealings.

John Bull was beat at Waterloo!
They’ll swear to that in France.

And oh! I shall find how, day by day,
All thoughts and things look older;
How the laugh of pleasure grows less gay,
And the heart of friendship colder.

I remember, I remember
How my childhood fleeted by,—
The mirth of its December
And the warmth of its July.

Of science and logic he chatters,
As fine and as fast as he can;
Though I am no judge of such matters,
I’m sure he’s a talented man.