Aaron Hill

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.

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.

The doctors gave her over--to an ass.

The doctors gave her over--to an ass.

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.

"Rogue that I am," he whispers to himself,
"I lie, I cheat--do anything for pelf,
But who read more

"Rogue that I am," he whispers to himself,
"I lie, I cheat--do anything for pelf,
But who on earth can say I am not pious?"