Epigram. On Reading Grim's Attack Upon Clinton.

'Tis the opinion of the town
    That Grim's a silly elf:
In trying to write Clinton down,
    He went RIGHT DOWN HIMSELF.

George Pope Morris

George Pope Morris was an American editor, poet, and songwriter. Born on October 10, 1802, he made significant contributions to American literature and music. Morris co-founded and edited the New York Evening Mirror, where he published works by Edgar Allan Poe and others. He is perhaps best known for his song "Woodman, Spare That Tree!" and his role in the early 19th-century literary scene. Morris died on July 6, 1864, leaving behind a legacy of editorial and creative work that influenced many American writers and musicians.

George Pope Morris

Masonic Hymn.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Tis Now the Promised Hour. A Serenade.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Song of the Reapers.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Land-Ho!

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

English

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Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Epigram On Hearing A Lady Talk Very Fast And Unintelligibly

Words upon words impetuous rush along,
And tread each other's brains out as they throng.

    *        *        *        *        *

'Admire my wife! did ever mortal eyes'
Cornuto, in a rapture, boasting cries
'Such a fine set of teeth of ivory view?
And such a fine complexion's ivory hue?
Fool! hide thy head! both her and thee we scorn:
Oft the wife's ivory makes the husband's horn.

    *        *        *        *        *

I'm told Sir Pigmy mimics me; what then?
Don't we all know that monkies mimic men?
'I cannot say your poem I admire;
It wants originality and fire;
Besides, I find it, by no means, correct;
You've written it in haste, I should suspect,'
"What! do you think me then a jackass, pray?"
'I shall think so if you so lou...

Thomas Oldham

Epigram

Great folks are of a finer mould;
Lord! how politely they can scold!
While a coarse English tongue will itch,
For whore and rogue, and dog and bitch.

Jonathan Swift

Epigram.

What news to-day?--"Oh! worse and worse--
"Mac^[1] is the Prince's Privy Purse!"--
The Prince's Purse! no, no, you fool,
You mean the Prince's Ridicule.

Thomas Moore

Epigram. On Hearing that Morse Did Not "Invent" the Telegraph

First they said it would not do;
    But, when he got through it,
Then they vowed they always knew
    That he didn't do it!
Lies are rolling stones, of course,
But they can't adhere to MORSE.

George Pope Morris

To Dr. Delany, On The Libels Written Against Him.

1729

                                    - Tanti tibi non sit opaci
Omnis arena Tagi quodque in mare volvitur aurum. - Juv. iii, 54.

As some raw youth in country bred,
To arms by thirst of honour led,
When at a skirmish first he hears
The bullets whistling round his ears,
Will duck his head aside, will start,
And feel a trembling at his heart,
Till 'scaping oft without a wound
Lessens the terror of the sound;
Fly bullets now as thick as hops,
He runs into a cannon's chops.
An author thus, who pants for fame,
Begins the world with fear and shame;
When first in print you see him dread
Each pop-gun levell'd at his head:
The lead yon critic's quill contains,
Is destined to beat out his brains:
As if he heard loud thunders roll,

Jonathan Swift

An Epigram

The scriptures affirm (as I heard in my youth,
For indeed I ne'er read them, to speak for once truth)
That death is the wages of sin, but the just
Shall die not, although they be laid in the dust.
They say so; so be it, I care not a straw,
Although I be dead both in gospel and law;
In verse I shall live, and be read in each climate;
What more can be said of prime sergeant or primate?
While Carter and Prendergast both may be rotten,
And damn'd to the bargain, and yet be forgotten.

Jonathan Swift