HONOUR. Four's a sacred tie-the law of kings, The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets her, It is not to be sported with. Addison Honour. HONOUR ITS OWN REWARD. BY HEBER. SWELL, Swell the shrill trumpet, clear sounding afar, Our sabres flash splendour around, For freedom has summon'd her sons to the war, Nor Britain has shrunk from the sound. Let plunder's vile thirst the invaders inflame, No! free be our aid, independent our might, Still all that we love to our thoughts shall succeed, And oh! if returning triumphant we move, Oh! blest by his country, his kindred, his love, THE PRIDE OF HONOUR. BY THOMSON. Honour, my lord, is much too proud to catch Honour hurt is wont to rage With pain no med'cine can assuage. Some have been beaten till they know Butler. HONOUR UNAFFECTED BY SLANDER. BY BYRON. I PREFER My honour to a thousand lives, could such Which nothing human can impugn-the sense Behold, and feel, and suffer, be a lesson |