George Farquhar

'Twas for the good of my country that I should be abroad.
Anything for the good of one's country--I'm read more

'Twas for the good of my country that I should be abroad.
Anything for the good of one's country--I'm a Roman for that.

Over the hills, and over the main,
To Flanders, Portugal, or Spain;
The Queen commands, and we'll read more

Over the hills, and over the main,
To Flanders, Portugal, or Spain;
The Queen commands, and we'll obey,
Over the hills and far away.

Courage, the highest gift, that scorns to bend
To mean devices for a sordid end.
Courage--an independent read more

Courage, the highest gift, that scorns to bend
To mean devices for a sordid end.
Courage--an independent spark from Heaven's bright throne,
By which the soul stands raised, triumphant high, alone.
Great in itself, not praises of the crowd,
Above all vice, it stoops not to be proud.
Courage, the mighty attribute of powers above,
By which those great in war, are great in love.
The spring of all brave acts is seated here,
As falsehoods draw their sordid birth from fear.

Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's read more

Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's you: the table is the place:
The carvers we: the prologue is the grace.
Each act, a course, each scene, a different dish,
Though we're in Lent, I doubt you're still for flesh.
Satire's the sauce, high-season'd, sharp and rough.
Kind masks and beaux, I hope you're pepperproof?
Wit is the wine; but 'tis so scarce the true
Poets, like vintners, balderdash and brew.
Your surly scenes, where rant and bloodshed join.
Are butcher's meat, a battle's sirloin:
Your scenes of love, so flowing, soft and chaste,
Are water-gruel without salt or taste.

Money is the sinews of love, as of war.

Money is the sinews of love, as of war.