John Byrom

He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.

He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.

As fierce as hell, or fiercer still,
A woman piqued who has her will.

As fierce as hell, or fiercer still,
A woman piqued who has her will.

With good and gentle-humored hearts
I choose to chat where'er I come
Whate'er the subject be that read more

With good and gentle-humored hearts
I choose to chat where'er I come
Whate'er the subject be that starts.
But if I get among the glum
I hold my tongue to tell the truth
And keep my breath to cool my broth.

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

In conversation avoid the extremes of forwardness and reserve.

In conversation avoid the extremes of forwardness and reserve.