John Gay

My tongue within my lips I rein:
For who talks much must talk in vain.

My tongue within my lips I rein:
For who talks much must talk in vain.

No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.

No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.

What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
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What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians' food,
And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.

When if or chance or hunger's powerful sway
Directs the roving trout this fatal way,
He greedily read more

When if or chance or hunger's powerful sway
Directs the roving trout this fatal way,
He greedily sucks in the twining bait,
And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat.
Now, happy fisherman; now twitch the line!
How thy rod bends! behold, the prize is thine!

Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise;
Or, underneath the umbrella's oily read more

Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise;
Or, underneath the umbrella's oily shade,
Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread,
Let Persian dames the unbrella's ribs display,
To guard their beauties from the sunny ray;
Or sweating slaves support the shady load,
When eastern monarchs show their state abroad;
Britain in winter only knows its aid,
To guard from chilling showers the walking maid.