“
So let him stand, through ages yet unborn,Fix'd statue on the pedestal of Scorn.
— Scorn
So let him stand, through ages yet unborn,Fix'd statue on the pedestal of Scorn.
He will laugh thee to scorn.
He hearsOf public scorn.
Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee.
A drop of patience: but, alas, to make meTo point his slow unmoving finger at!
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautifulIn the contempt and anger of his lip!
