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Lord Fanny Spins A Thousand Such A Day.
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Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
-- Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace, Satire i, Book ii, Line 6
Related:
Bare the mean heart that lurks behind a star.
Satire 's my weapon, but I 'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.
For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl, The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
One simile that solitary shines In the dry desert of a thousand lines.
Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.
Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.
Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise.
The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease.
