Samuel Butler (poet)

With books and money plac'd for show Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, And for his false opinion pay.

He that complies against his will. Is of his own opinion still.

For those that fly may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain.

We idly sit, like stupid blockheads, Our hands committed to our pockets, And nothing but our tongues at large, To get the wretches a discharge: Like men condemn'd to thunder-bolts, Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts;

But still his tongue ran on, the less Of weight it bore, with greater ease.

True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin'd upon.

With crosses, relics, crucifixes, Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes,— The tools of working our salvation By mere mechanic operation.

Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick, Though he gave his name to our Old Nick.

'Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin; And therefore no true saint allows They shall be suffer'd to espouse.

The hollow-hearted, disaffected, And close malignant are detected ; Who lay their lives and fortunes down, For pledges to secure our own.

What makes all doctrines plain and clear? About two hundred pounds a year. And that which was prov'd true before Prove false again? Two hundred more.

Still amorous and fond and billing, Like Philip and Mary on a shilling.

As men of inward light are wont To turn their optics in upon 't.

But Hudibras gave him a twitch As quick as lightning in the breech, Just in the place where honour's lodg'd, As wise philosophers have judg'd; Because a kick in that part more Hurts honour than deep wounds before.

There 's but the twinkling of a star Between a man of peace and war.

To swallow gudgeons ere they 're catch'd, And count their chickens ere they're hatch'd.

Each window like a pill'ry appears, With heads thrust thro' nail'd by the ears.

He made an instrument to know If the moon shine at full or no.

Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated as to cheat.

As the ancients Say wisely, have a care o' th' main chance, And look before you ere you leap; For as you sow, ye are like to reap.

He that imposes an oath makes it, Not he that for convenience takes it; Then how can any man be said To break an oath he never made?

Why should not conscience have vacation As well as other courts o' th' nation?

For truth is precious and divine,— Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.

Have always been at daggers-drawing, And one another clapper-clawing.