Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing read more

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike;
Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend,
A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend.

Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming read more

Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming at the self-same end,
Satire is always virtue's friend.

It is difficult not to write satire.
[Lat., Difficile est satiram non scribere.]

It is difficult not to write satire.
[Lat., Difficile est satiram non scribere.]

Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
read more

Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
He hides behind a magisterial air
He own offences, and strips others' bare.

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La read more

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La satire ment sur les gens de lettres pendant leur vie, et
l'eloge ment apres leur mort.]

Men are more satirical from vanity than from malice.

Men are more satirical from vanity than from malice.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.