Maxioms by Aaron Hill
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.
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.
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.
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.
Who backs his rigid Sabbath, so to speak,
Against the wicked remnant of the week."
Who backs his rigid Sabbath, so to speak,
Against the wicked remnant of the week."