Poem by James Beattie

Law

LAWS, as we read in ancient sages,
Have been like cobwebs in all ages.
Cobwebs for little flies are spread,
And laws for little folks are made;
But if an insect of renown,
Hornet or beetle, wasp or drone,
Be caught in quest of sport or plunder,
The flimsy fetter flies in sunder. 

1. An Eclogue. In the Manner of Mr. Gay
2. Elegy (Tir'D with the Busy Crouds)
3. On reading the Declaration of War in 1756
4. An Epitaph
5. Verses occasioned by the Death of the Revd. Mr. Charles Churchill

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