Winthrop Mackworth Praed Quotes

Hail, blest Confusion! here are met
All tongues, and times, and faces;
The Lancers flirt with Juliet,
The Brahmin talks of races.

I think, whatever mortals crave, With impotent endeavor, A wreath
a rank
a throne
a grave
The world goes round forever; I think that life is not too long, And therefore I determine, That many people read a song, Who will not read a sermon.

And oh! I shall find how, day by day, All thoughts and things look older; How the laugh of pleasure grows less gay, And the heart of friendship colder.

I remember, I remember how my childhood fleeted by. The mirth of its December, and the warmth of its July.

I think while zealots fast and frown,
And fight for two or seven,
That there are fifty roads to town,
And rather more to Heaven.

The Baptist found him far too deep; The Deist sighed with saving sorrow; And the lean Levite went to sleep, And dreamed of tasting pork to-morrow.

Twelve years ago I made a mock
Of filthy trades and traffics;
I considered what they meant by stock;
I wrote delightful sapphics;
I knew the streets of Rome and Troy,
I supped with fates and Fairies
Twelve years ago I was a boy,
A happy boy at Drury's.