George Crabbe

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.

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?

Feed the musician, and he's out of tune

Feed the musician, and he's out of tune

Oh, Conscience! Conscience! man's most faithful friend,
Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend;
But if he read more

Oh, Conscience! Conscience! man's most faithful friend,
Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend;
But if he will thy friendly checks forego,
Thou art, oh! woe for me, his deadliest foe!

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.