Aaron Hill

Look here, he cries (to give him words):
Thou feathered clay, thou scum of birds!
Look here, read more

Look here, he cries (to give him words):
Thou feathered clay, thou scum of birds!
Look here, thou vile, predestined sinner,
Doomed to be roasted for a dinner.

Tender handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man 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.

There's not a string attuned to mirth,
But has its chord in melancholy.

There's not a string attuned to mirth,
But has its chord in melancholy.

Mere verbiage,--it is not worth a carrot!
Why Socrates or Plato--where's the odds?--
Once taught a jay read more

Mere verbiage,--it is not worth a carrot!
Why Socrates or Plato--where's the odds?--
Once taught a jay to supplicate the Gods,
And made a Polly-theist of a Parrot!

Behold him in conceited circles sail,
Strutting and dancing and now planted stiff,
In all his pomp read more

Behold him in conceited circles sail,
Strutting and dancing and now planted stiff,
In all his pomp of pageantry, as if
He felt the eyes of Europe on his tail.