Matthew Prior

Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.

— Matthew Prior

Hope is but the dream of those who wake.

— Matthew Prior

Our hopes, like towering falcons, aimIs from afar to view the flight.

— Matthew Prior

From ignorance our comfort flows.The only wretched are the wise.

— Matthew Prior

That if weak women went astray,Their stars were more in fault than they.

— Matthew Prior

The end must justify the means.

— Matthew Prior

Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise.

— Matthew Prior

Soft peace she brings; wherever she arrivesAnd opens in each heart a little heaven.

— Matthew Prior

Be to her virtues very kind;And clap your padlock — on her mind!

— Matthew Prior

And thought the nation ne'er would thriveTill all the whores were burnt alive.

— Matthew Prior

He ranged his tropes, and preached up patience;Backed his opinion with quotations.

— Matthew Prior

Cured yesterday of my disease,I died last night of my physician.

— Matthew Prior

Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart,And often took leave, but was loth to depart.

— Matthew Prior

His noble negligences teachWhat others' toils despair to reach.

— Matthew Prior

Till their own dreams at length decive 'em,And oft repeating, they believe 'em.

— Matthew Prior

To John I owed great obligation;Sure John and I are more than quit.

— Matthew Prior

Nobles and heralds, by your leave,Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?

— Matthew Prior

All jargon of the schools.

— Matthew Prior

Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song?

— Matthew Prior

They never taste who always drink;They always talk who never think.

— Matthew Prior

Hope is but the dream of those who wake.

— Matthew Prior

That air and harmony of shape express,Fine by degrees, and beautifully less.

— Matthew Prior

Abra was ready ere I called her name;And though I called another, Abra came.

— Matthew Prior

For hope is but the dream of those that wake.

— Matthew Prior

Who breathes must suffer, and who thinks must mourn;And he alone is bless'd who ne'er was born.

— Matthew Prior

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

— Matthew Prior