Maxioms by Matthew Prior
You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of read more
You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of which you need not read one letter,
The worse the scrawl, the dose the better.
For if you knew but what you take,
Though you recover, he must break.
They never taste who always drink;
They always talk who never think.
They never taste who always drink;
They always talk who never think.
Let him be kept from paper, pen, and ink;
So may he cease to write, and learn to think.
Let him be kept from paper, pen, and ink;
So may he cease to write, and learn to think.
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave; but was loth to part.
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave; but was loth to part.
