George Crabbe

Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?

Void of all honor, avaricious, rash,
The daring tribe compound their boasted trash--
Tincture of syrup, lotion, read more

Void of all honor, avaricious, rash,
The daring tribe compound their boasted trash--
Tincture of syrup, lotion, drop, or pill;
All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill.

The coward never on himself relies,
But to an equal for assistance flies.

The coward never on himself relies,
But to an equal for assistance flies.

A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.

A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.

His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.

His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.