1 min read
Слушать(AI)On A Pair Of Dice
We are little brethren twain,
Arbiters of loss and gain,
Many to our counters run,
Some are made, and some undone:
But men find it to their cost,
Few are made, but numbers lost.
Though we play them tricks for ever,
Yet they always hope our favour.
Jonathan Swift
Jonathan Swift (30 November 1667 – 19 October 1745) was an Anglo-Irish satirist, essayist, political pamphleteer (first for the Whigs, then for
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Cadenus And Vanessa
HE shepherds and the nymphs were Pleading before the Cyprian Queen The counsel for the fair Accusing the false creature, man
Phillis Or the Progress of Love
Desponding Phillis was endu'd With ev'ry Talent of a Prude, She trembled when a Man drew near; Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear: If o'er against her you were plac't She durst not look above your Wa[i]st;
On Cutting Down The Thorn At Market-Hill
At Market-Hill, as well appears By chronicle of ancient date, There stood for many hundred years A spacious thorn before the gate Hither came every village maid, And on the boughs her garland hung, And here, beneath the spreading sh...
The Fable Of Midas
Midas, we are in story told, Turn'd every thing he touch'd to gold: He chipp'd his bread; the pieces Glitter'd like spangles on the ground:
