Say, what is Honour?—‘ Tis the finest sense...

Say, what is Honour?—‘ Tis the finest sense

Of justice which the human mind can frame,

Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,

And guard the way of life from all offence

Suffered or done. When lawless violence

Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale

Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,

Honour is hopeful elevation,— whence

Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill

Endangered States may yield to terms unjust;

Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust —

A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:

Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust

Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.