Alexander Pope

But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat,
The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat,
To closer read more

But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat,
The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat,
To closer shades the panting flocks remove;
Ye gods! and is there no relief for love?

"An't it please your Honour," quoth the Peasant,
"This same Desset is not so pleasant:
Give me read more

"An't it please your Honour," quoth the Peasant,
"This same Desset is not so pleasant:
Give me again my hollow Tree,
A Crust of Bread, and Liberty."

To Kerke the narre, from God more farre.

To Kerke the narre, from God more farre.

Poets heap virtues, painters gems, at will,
And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill.

Poets heap virtues, painters gems, at will,
And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill.

Who sees pale Mammom pine amidst his store,
Sees but a backward steward for the poor.

Who sees pale Mammom pine amidst his store,
Sees but a backward steward for the poor.