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.

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.

I wear my Pen as others do their Sword.
To each affronting sot I meet, the word
read more

I wear my Pen as others do their Sword.
To each affronting sot I meet, the word
Is Satisfaction: straight to thrusts I go,
And pointed satire runs him through and through.

Satire is what closes Saturday night.

Satire is what closes Saturday night.

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.]

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.

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something read more

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, read more

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out
of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.