An honest man's the noblest work of God.
Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.
Let sinful bachelors their woes deplore; full well they merit all they feel, and more: unaw by precepts, human or divine, like birds and beasts, promiscuously they join.
What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.
The enormous faith of many made for one.