More from Absalom and Achitophel
- A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pygmy-body to decay, And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity; Pleas'd with the danger, when the waves went high He sought the storms.
- And all to leave what with his toil he won To that unfeather'd two-legged thing, a son.
- And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
- Beware the fury of a patient man.
- But wild Ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune’s ice prefers to Virtue’s land.
- For every inch that is not fool is rogue.
Last reviewed 2026-07-06