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?

But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would abide.

But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would abide.

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.

"What is a church?"--Our honest sexton tells,
'Tis a tall building, with a tower and bells.

"What is a church?"--Our honest sexton tells,
'Tis a tall building, with a tower and bells.

Feed the musician, and he's out of tune

Feed the musician, and he's out of tune