A Quote by Francis Quarles

O who would trust this world, or prize what's in it,
That gives and takes, and chops and changes, ev'ry minute? — © Francis Quarles
O who would trust this world, or prize what's in it, That gives and takes, and chops and changes, ev'ry minute?
A prison! heav'ns, I loath the hated name, Famine's metropolis, the sink of shame, A nauseous sepulchre, whose craving womb Hourly inters poor mortals in its tomb; By ev'ry plague and ev'ry ill possess'd, Ev'n purgatory itself to thee 's a jest.
"With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?"-She wants a heart.
Let Joy or Ease, let Affluence or Content, And the gay Conscience of a life well spent, Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face.
How fair doth Nature Appear again! How bright the sunbeams! How smiles the plain! The flow'rs are bursting From ev'ry bough, And thousand voices Each bush yields now. And joy and gladness Fill ev'ry breast! Oh earth!-oh sunlight! Oh rapture blest! Oh love! oh loved one!
How do you know but ev’ry Bird that cuts the airy way, Is an immense world of delight, clos’d by your senses five?
And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word.
A patriot is a fool in ev'ry age.
At ev'ry word a reputation dies.
Who wants to be a millionaire? And go to ev'ry swell affair?
Ev'ry heart beats true 'neath the Red, White and Blue
Don't ye know that ev'ry Soul on Earth feels itself to be an Orphan?
But just disease to luxury succeeds, And ev'ry death its own avenger breeds.
Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day.
The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart.
Look-ye, 'tis my Opinion, ev'ry Man cheats in his Way. And he is only honest, who is not discover'd.
Heaven breathes thro' ev'ry member of the whole One common blessing, as one common soul.
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