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Alexander Pope
Quote #60
Let spades be trumps! she said, and trumps they were.
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The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, And wretches hang that jurymen may dine.
Coffee, which makes the politician wise, And see through all things with his half-shut eyes.
At every word a reputation dies.
But when mischief mortals bend their will, How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey, Dost sometimes counsel take - and sometimes tea.
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever From the fair head, forever, and forever! Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes, And …
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, And beauty draws us with a single hair.
Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane.
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