Breathes there the man with soul so dead

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land!

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd

As home his footsteps he hath turn'd

From wandering on a foreign strand?

If such there breathe, go, mark him well!

For him no minstrel raptures swell;

High though his titles, proud his name,

Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,—

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,

The wretch, concentred all in self,

Living, shall forfeit fair renown,

And, doubly dying, shall go down

To the vile dust from whence he sprung,

Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto vi. Stanza 1.

To the last moment of his breath,

On hope the wretch relies;

And even the pang preceding death

Bids expectation rise.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Captivity. Act ii.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,

Chaos is come again.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Othello. Act iii. Sc. 3.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,

A living-dead man.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip

To haud the wretch in order;

But where ye feel your honour grip,

Let that aye be your border.

Robert Burns (1759-1796): Epistle to a Young Friend.

And what is friendship but a name,

A charm that lulls to sleep,

A shade that follows wealth or fame,

And leaves the wretch to weep?

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 19.

To the last moment of his breath,

On hope the wretch relies;

And even the pang preceding death

Bids expectation rise.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Captivity. Act ii.

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!

Thou little valiant, great in villany!

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!

Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight

But when her humorous ladyship is by

To teach thee safety.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulged crimes,

Unwhipp'd of justice.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Lear. Act iii. Sc. 2.