Robert Pollok

Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.

Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.

All seems infected that th' infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.

All seems infected that th' infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.

Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be read more

Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be believed,
The other never read.

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.

'Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother
About one vice and fall into another.

'Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother
About one vice and fall into another.