Samuel Butler

Cry out upon the stars for doing
Ill offices, to cross their wooing.

Cry out upon the stars for doing
Ill offices, to cross their wooing.

Through thick and thin.

Through thick and thin.

For his religion, it was fit
To match his learning and his wit;
'Twas Presbyterian true blue;
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For his religion, it was fit
To match his learning and his wit;
'Twas Presbyterian true blue;
For he was of that stubborn crew
Of errant saints, whom all men grant
To be the true Church Militant;
Such as do build their faith upon
The holy text of pike and gun;
Decide all controversies by
Infallible artillery;
And prove their doctrine orthodox,
By Apostolic blows and knocks.

This was the penn'worth of his thought.

This was the penn'worth of his thought.

As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honour's lodged,
As wise philosophers read more

As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honour's lodged,
As wise philosophers have judged,
Because a kick in that place more
Hurts honour than deep wounds before.