_Epistle to Mr. Addison_. A. POPE.
FISH.
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?
_Sonnets: The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit_. L. HUNT.
Our plenteous streams a various race supply.
The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye,
The silver eel, in shining volumes rolled,
The yellow carp, in scales bedropped with gold,
Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains,
And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
_Windsor Forest_. A. POPE.
FLATTERY.
No adulation; 'tis the death of virtue;
Who flatters, is of all mankind the lowest
Save he who courts the flattery.
_Daniel_. H. MORE.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
_Timon of Athens, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
They do abuse the king that flatter him:
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin.
_Pericles, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
But poisoned flattery?
_Henry V., Act iv. Sc 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
But flattery never seems absurd;
The flattered always take your word:
Impossibilities seem just;
They take the strongest praise on trust.
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