Matthew Prior

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of read more

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of which you need not read one letter,
The worse the scrawl, the dose the better.
For if you knew but what you take,
Though you recover, he must break.

Soft peace she brings, wherever she arrives:
She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives:
Lays read more

Soft peace she brings, wherever she arrives:
She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives:
Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even,
And opens in each heart a little Heaven.

A Rechabite poor Will must live,
And drink of Adam's ale.

A Rechabite poor Will must live,
And drink of Adam's ale.

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the read more

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest.

When people once are in the wrong,
Each line they add is much too long;
Who fastest read more

When people once are in the wrong,
Each line they add is much too long;
Who fastest walks, but walks astray,
Is only furthest from his way.