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Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming read more
Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming at the self-same end,
Satire is always virtue's friend.
I wear my Pen as others do their Sword.
To each affronting sot I meet, the word
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I wear my Pen as others do their Sword.
To each affronting sot I meet, the word
Is Satisfaction: straight to thrusts I go,
And pointed satire runs him through and through.
I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
Thine read more
Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
Thine is an oyster knife, that hacks and hews;
The rage but not the talent to abuse.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.
Satire is what closes Saturday night.
Satire is what closes Saturday night.
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing read more
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike;
Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend,
A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend.
Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
He hides behind a magisterial air
He own offences, and strips others' bare.