Aaron Hill

Just as the felon condemn'd to die--
With a very natural loathing--
Leaving the sheriff to dream read more

Just as the felon condemn'd to die--
With a very natural loathing--
Leaving the sheriff to dream of ropes,
From his gloomy cell in a vision elopes,
To caper on sunny greens and slopes,
Instead of the dance upon nothing.

The more the eggs, the worse the hatch,
The more the fish, the worse the catch.

The more the eggs, the worse the hatch,
The more the fish, the worse the catch.

Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of read more

Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
'Tis the same with common natures,
Use 'em kindly, they rebel;
But, be rough as nutmeg-graters,
And the rogues obey you well.

For man may pious texts repeat,
And yet religion have no inward seat.

For man may pious texts repeat,
And yet religion have no inward seat.

When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine,
Inspir'd cold water, with the warmth of wine,
See! read more

When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine,
Inspir'd cold water, with the warmth of wine,
See! cry'd they while, in red'ning tide, it gush'd,
The bashful stream hath seen its God and blush'd.