Samuel Butler

The extremes of glory and of shame, Like east and west, become the same No Indian prince has to his read more

The extremes of glory and of shame, Like east and west, become the same No Indian prince has to his palace - More followers than a thief to the gallows

Learn'd he was in medic'nal lore,
For by his side a pouch he wore,
Replete with strange read more

Learn'd he was in medic'nal lore,
For by his side a pouch he wore,
Replete with strange hermetic powder
That wounds nine miles point-blank would solder.

This was the penn'worth of his thought.

This was the penn'worth of his thought.

He who does not make his words rather serve to conceal than
discover the sense of his heart deserves read more

He who does not make his words rather serve to conceal than
discover the sense of his heart deserves to have it pulled out
like a traitor's and shown publicly to the rabble.

He could raise scruples dark and nice,
And after solve 'em in a trice;
As if Divinity read more

He could raise scruples dark and nice,
And after solve 'em in a trice;
As if Divinity had catch'd
The itch, on purpose to be scratched.