Samuel Butler

Learn'd he was in medic'nal lore,
For by his side a pouch he wore,
Replete with strange read more

Learn'd he was in medic'nal lore,
For by his side a pouch he wore,
Replete with strange hermetic powder
That wounds nine miles point-blank would solder.

'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all
That men divine and sacred call;
For what is worth, read more

'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all
That men divine and sacred call;
For what is worth, in anything,
But so much money as 't will bring?

The truest characters of ignorance are vanity, and pride and arrogance.

The truest characters of ignorance are vanity, and pride and arrogance.

And poets by their sufferings grow,--
As if there were no more to do,
To make a read more

And poets by their sufferings grow,--
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
But only want and discontent.

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow:
Some kick'd read more

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow:
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.