William Congreve

Sop to Cerebus.
If I can find Cerebus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day.

Sop to Cerebus.
If I can find Cerebus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough
to be a wit.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough
to be a wit.

Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

And the prettiest foot! Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes
to her feet, as they steal read more

And the prettiest foot! Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes
to her feet, as they steal in and out, and play at bo-peep under
her petticoats!