It doesn't matter how you live and die, it's how the bards wrote it down.
Of all that writ, he was the wisest bard, who spoke this mighty truth- He that knew all that ever learning writ, Knew only this-that he knew nothing yet.
Oh! blame not the bard.
I paint the cot, As truth will paint it, and as bards will not.
From Bard, to Bard, the frigid Caution crept, Till Declamation roar'd, while Passion slept.
Poetry is the work of the bard and of the people who inspire him.
The Eighth Commandment was not made for bards.