The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, and in the cunning, truth's itself a lie.
On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.
O peace! how many wars were waged in thy name.
Fickle Fortune reigns, and, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains.
All nature's diff'rence keeps all nature's peace.
Dogs, ye have had your day!