Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Might never reach me more.
Wars and rumours of wars.
Trying to squash a rumour is like trying to unring a bell.
No whispered rumours which the many spread can wholly perish.
The flying rumours gather'd as the roll'd, Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told; And all who told it added something new. And all who heard it made enlargements too.
It (rumour) has a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice of iron. [Lat., Linguae centum sunt, oraque centum Ferrea vox.]
When rumours increase, and when there is an abundance of noise and clamour, believe the second report.
Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more!