Alexander Pope

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something read more

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.

He that fights and runs away,
Will live to fight another day;
For he that runs may read more

He that fights and runs away,
Will live to fight another day;
For he that runs may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain.
Deeper to wound she shuns the fight;
She drops her arms, to gain the field:
Secures her conquest by her flight:
And triumphs when she seems to yield.

"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."

In death a hero, as in life a friend!.

In death a hero, as in life a friend!.

Who would not praise Patrico's high desert,
His hand unstain'd, his uncorrupted heart,
His comprehensive head? all read more

Who would not praise Patrico's high desert,
His hand unstain'd, his uncorrupted heart,
His comprehensive head? all interests weigh'd,
All Europe sav'd, yet Britain not betray'd.