A Satirical Poet Is The Check Of

Be Fair, Or Foul, Or Rain, Or Shine, The Joys I Have Possessed, In Spite Of Fate, Are Mine. Not Heaven Itself Upon The Past Has Power; But What Has Been, Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.

Ev'n Wit's A Burthen, When It Talks Too Long.

Dancing Is The Poetry Of The Foot.

None But The Brave Deserve The Fair.

Inspire The Vocal Brass, Inspire; The World Is Past Its Infant Age: Arms And Honour, Arms And Honour, Set The Martial Mind On Fire, And Kindle Manly Rage.