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Lo where the stage, the poor, degraded stage,
Holds its warped mirror to a gaping age.

— Charles Sprague

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More quotes by Charles Sprague

Through life’s dark road his sordid way he wends,
An incarnation of fat dividends.

Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
In learned doctors’ spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.

Behold! in Liberty’s unclouded blaze
We lift our heads, a race of other days.

Gay, guiltless pair,
What seek ye from the fields of heaven?
Ye have no need of prayer,
Ye have no sins to be forgiven.

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Charles Sprague (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.