Samuel Butler

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With read more

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.

He ne'er consider'd it as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth,
And very wisely would read more

He ne'er consider'd it as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth,
And very wisely would lay forth
No more upon it than 'twas worth;
But as he got it freely, so
He spent it frank and freely too:
For saints themselves will sometimes be,
Of gifts that cost them nothing, free.

'Tis not antiquity, nor author,
That makes truth truth, altho' time's daughter.

'Tis not antiquity, nor author,
That makes truth truth, altho' time's daughter.

For zeal's a dreadful termagant,
That teaches saints to tear and cant.

For zeal's a dreadful termagant,
That teaches saints to tear and cant.

Why should not Conscience have vacation
As well as other Courts o' th' nation?
Have equal power read more

Why should not Conscience have vacation
As well as other Courts o' th' nation?
Have equal power to adjourn,
Appoint appearance and return?