Date: 1710

"Curse on that foppish Name, that empty Sound ['Honour'], / In whose dark Maze Mens Intellects are drown'd."

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

Honour is a "Maggot that infects the giddy Brains / Of Cowards, Foold, rich Knaves, and Curtizans"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

London ladies are "All looking upwards, aiming with their Darts / To wound the Rich, and conquer wealthy Hearts"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

"What stingy Avarice invades thy Mind?"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

"Gold such Patience can inspire, / And so debase the Soul of Man,"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

"Thy dying Words shall melt my stony Breast, / And pierce my weeping Soul whilst thou art blest"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

"Never from my repenting Thoughts depart, / But stand, like Brass, imprinted in my Heart."

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1710

"I took thee for a Saint, but find, alas! / Thy Heart is Iron, and thy Face is Brass;"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: w. c. 1709, 1711

"Yet if we look more closely, we shall find / Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind: / Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light; / The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: w. c. 1709, 1711

"But as the slightest sketch, if justly trac'd, / Is by ill-colouring but the more disgrac'd, / So by false learning is good sense defac'd."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)