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Six Epigrams by Hillaire Belloc

On Lady Polyagrue, a Public Peril

 

The devil, having nothing else to do,

Went off to tempt My Lady Poltagrue.

My Lady, tempted by a private whim,

To his extreme annoyance, tempted him.

 

On a Dead Hostess

 

Of this bad world the loveliest and the best,

Has smiled and said "Good Night", and gone to rest.

 

On Hygiene

 

Of old when folk lay sick and sorely tied,

The doctors gave them physic, and they died.

But here's a happier age: for now we know

Both how to make men sick ad keep them so.

 

On His Books

 

When I am dead, I hope it may be said:

"His sins were scarlet, but his books were read."

 

Epitaph on the Politician

 

Here, richly, with ridiculous display,

The Politician's corps was laid away.

While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged,

I wept; for I had longed to see him hanged.

 

For False Heart

 

I said to Heart, "How goes it?" Heart replied:

"Right as a Ribstone Pippin!" But it lied.

 

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