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The Gods no sooner give a Grace,
But, fond of their own Art,
Severely Jealous, ever place,
To guard the Glories of a Face,
A Dragon in the Heart.
—A Pastoral Dialogue Between Alexis and Strephon
As Trees are by their Bark embrac'd,
Love to my Soul doth cling.
—A Pastoral Dialogue Between Alexis and Strephon
By Harmony the Universe does move,
And what is Harmony but mutual Love?
—The Advice
Such sweet, dear, tempting Devils Women are.
—To Love
Her hand, her foot, her very look's a cunt.
—The Imperfect Enjoyment
Where'er it pierced, a cunt it found or made.
—The Imperfect Enjoyment
Wit has to Pleasure been ever a Friend.
—A Song ["To this Moment a Rebel"]
Then talk not of Inconstancy,
False Hearts and broken Vows;
If I by Miracle can be,
This long-liv'd Minute true to thee,
It's all that Heav'n allows.
—A Song ["All my past Life is mine no more"]
Farewel Woman, I intend
Henceforth ev'ry Night to sit
With my Lewd Well-natur'd Friend,
Drinking, to engender Wit.
—Song ["Love a Woman! y'are an Ass"]
Cupid and Bacchus my saints are,
May Drink and Love still reign!
With wine I wash away my cares,
And then to love again.
—Nestor
After Death nothing is, and nothing Death.
—Translation from Seneca's Troas
Dead, we become the Lumber of the World;
And to that Mass of Matter shall be swept,
Where things destroy'd with things unborn are kept.
—Translation from Seneca's Troas
No spleen or malice need on them be thrown:
Nature has done the business of lampoon,
And in their looks their characters has shown.
—Tunbridge Wells
A tribe of curates, priests, canonical elves,
Fit company for none besides themselves.
—Tunbridge Wells
Let him drink on, but 'tis not a whole flood
Can give sufficient sweetness to his blood
To make his nature or his manners good.
—Tunbridge Wells
Ourselves with noise of reason we do please
In vain: humanity's our worst disease.
—Tunbridge Wells
Were I (who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man)
A spirit free to choose, for my own share,
What case of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal
Who is so proud of being rational.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
His wisdom did his happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that world he should enjoy.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
For Wits are treated just like Common Whores:
First they're enjoyed, and then kicked out of doors.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
What they fear at heart, they hate.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
We have modern cloister'd coxcombs who
Retire to think, 'cause they have nought to do.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
Birds feed on birds, beasts on each other prey,
But savage man alone does man betray.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
All Men would be Cowards if they durst.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
The difference lies, as far as I can see,
Not in the thing itself, but the degree.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
Man differs more from Man, than Man from Beast.
—Satire Against Reason and Mankind
Poetry's a Snare;
Bedlam has many Mansions; have a Care.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
Cursed if you fail, and scorned though you succeed!
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
Love, the most generous Passion of the Mind,
The softest Refuge Innocence can find,
The safe director of unguided Youth,
Fraught with kind Wishes, and secured by Truth;
That Cordial drop Heaven in our cup has thrown
To make the nauseous Draught of Life go down.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
For none did e'er so dull and stupid prove,
But felt a God, and blessed his power, in Love.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
Wonder by clear Knowledge is destroyed.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
Nothing suits worse with Vice than want of Sense:
Fools are still Wicked at their own Expense.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
Readers must reap the dullness writers sow.
—A Letter from Artemiza in the Town to Chloe in the Country
To Write what may securely stand in the Test
Of being well read over, thrice at least;
Compare each Phrase, examine ev'ry Line,
Weigh ev'ry Word, and ev'ry Thought refine.
Scorn all Applause the Vile Rout can bestow,
And be content to please those few who know.
—Horace's Tenth Satire of the First Book, Imitated
But mark what creatures women are:
How infinitely vile, when fair!
—A Ramble in St. James's Park
Such natural freedoms are but just:
There's something generous in mere lust.
—A Ramble in St. James's Park
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
—A Satyr on Charles II
There's not a thing on earth that I can name,
So foolish, and so false, as common fame.
—An Epistolary Essay from M. G. to O. B.
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Site copyright ©1996-2012 Anniina Jokinen. All Rights Reserved.
Page created by Anniina Jokinen on November 14, 2012.
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Earl of Rochester
