Prepare for rhyme--I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
_English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.
Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
_To the Imitator of the first Satire of Horace. Bk. II_.
LADY M.W. MONTAGU.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.
_Second Book of Horace_. A. POPE.
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel,
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
_Satires: Prologue_. A. POPE.