Treasure Island

Winthrop Mackworth Praed

(1802 - 1839 / England)

Quotations

  • ''When all who had money and leisure
    Grew rural o'er ices and wines,
    All pleasantly toiling for pleasure,
    All hungrily pining for pines,
    And making of beautiful speeches,
    And marring of beautiful shows,
    And feeding on delicate peaches,
    And treading on delicate toes.''
    Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839), British poet. Goodnight to the Season! (L. 76-83). . . Oxford Book of Light Verse, The. W. H. Auden, ed. (1938) Oxford University Press.
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  • ''Good-night to the Season!—the dances,
    The fillings of hot little rooms,
    The glancings of rapturous glances,
    The fancyings of fancy costumes;
    The pleasures which Fashion makes duties,
    The praisings of fiddles and flutes,
    The luxury of looking at beauties,
    The tedium of talking to mutes;''
    Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839), British poet. Goodnight to the Season! (L. 37-44). . . Oxford Book of Light Verse, The. W. H. Auden, ed. (1938) Oxford University Press.
  • ''And when religious sects ran mad,
    He held, in spite of all his learning,
    That if a man's belief is bad,
    It will not be improved by burning.''
    Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839), British poet. The Vicar (l. 69-72). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
  • ''His talk was like a spring, which runs
    With rapid change from rocks to roses:
    It slipped from politics to puns,
    It passed from Mahomet to Moses;
    Beginning with the laws which keep
    The planets in their radiant courses,
    And ending with some precept deep
    For dressing eels, or shoeing horses.''
    Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839), British poet. The Vicar (l. 33-40). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.

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The Vicar

SOME years ago, ere time and taste
Had turn’d our parish topsy-turvy,
When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste,
And roads as little known as scurvy,
The man who lost his way between
St. Mary’s Hill and Sandy Thicket
Was always shown across the green,
And guided to the parson’s wicket.

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