When all the world would keep a matter hid, |
Since Truth is seldom friend to any crowd, |
Men write in fable, as old Æsop did, |
Jesting at that which none will name aloud. |
And this they needs must do, or it will fall |
Unless they please they are not heard at all. |
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When desperate Folly daily laboureth |
To work confusion upon all we have, |
When diligent Sloth demandeth Freedom’s death, |
And banded Fear commandeth Honour’s grave - |
Even in that certain hour before the fall, |
Unless men please they are not heard at all. |
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Needs must all please, yet some not all for need, |
Needs must all toil, yet some not all for gain, |
But that men taking pleasure may take heed, |
Whom present toil shall snatch from later pain. |
Thus some have toiled, but their reward was small |
Since, though they pleased, they were not heard at all. |
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This was the lock that lay upon our lips, |
This was the yoke that we have undergone, |
Denying us all pleasant fellowships |
As in our time and generation. |
Our pleasures unpursued age past recall, |
And for our pains - we are not heard at all. |
What man hears aught except the groaning guns? |
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What man hears aught except the groaning guns? |
What man heeds aught save what each instant brings? |
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So it hath fallen, as it was bound to fall, |
We are not, nor we were not, heard at all. |