Hilaire Belloc was half French and half English; I don't know which half
dominated! Here are four of his best epigrams:

ON HIS BOOKS

When I am dead, I hope it may be said:
"His sins were scarlet--but his books were read."
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ON THE POLITICIAN

Here, richly, with ridiculous display,
The politician's corpse was laid away.
While all his acquaintances sneered and slanged,
I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.
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ON LADY POLTAGRUE, A PUBLIC PERIL

The Devil, having nothing else to do,
Went of to tempt my Lady Poltagrue.
My Lady, tempted by a private whim,
To his extreme annoyance, tempted him.
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FATIGUED

I'm tired of Love; I'm still more tired of Rhyme;
But money gives me pleasure all the time.