Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near

I As Little Fear That God Will Damn A Man That Has Charity, As I Hope That The Priests Can Save One Who Has Not.

The Vulgar Boil, The Learned Roast, An Egg.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

Cursed Be The Verse, How Well So E'er It Flow, That Tends To Make One Worthy Man My Foe.

Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A Crust Of Bread, And Liberty!