Charles Churchill Poems
|1.||An Epistle To William Hogarth||4/19/2010|
|3.||Gotham - Book I||4/19/2010|
|4.||Gotham - Book Ii||4/19/2010|
|5.||Gotham - Book Iii||4/19/2010|
|7.||Lines Written In Windsor Park||4/19/2010|
|12.||The Duellist - Book I||4/19/2010|
|13.||The Duellist - Book Ii||4/19/2010|
|14.||The Duellist - Book Iii||4/19/2010|
|16.||The Ghost - Book I||4/19/2010|
|17.||The Ghost - Book Iv||4/19/2010|
|18.||The Ghost: Book Ii (Excerpt)||1/1/2004|
|19.||The Ghost: Book Iii (Excerpt)||1/1/2004|
|21.||The Prophecy Of Famine||4/19/2010|
Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite,
And cruel parents teach, to read and write!
What need of letters? wherefore should we spell?
Why write our names? A mark will do as well.
Much are the precious hours of youth misspent,
In climbing Learning's rugged, steep ascent;
When to the top the bold adventurer's got,
He reigns, vain monarch, o'er a barren spot;
Whilst in the vale of Ignorance below,
Folly and Vice to rank luxuriance grow;
Honours and wealth pour in on every side,
And proud Preferment rolls her golden tide.
O'er crabbed authors life's gay ...
The Time hath been, a boyish, blushing Time,
When Modesty was scarcely held a crime,
When the most Wicked had some touch of grace,
And trembled to meet Virtue face to face,
When Those, who, in the cause of Sin grown grey,
Had serv'd her without grudging day by day,
Were yet so weak an awkward shame to feel,
And strove that glorious service to conceal;
We, better bred, and than our Sires more wise,