Samuel Butler

But still his tongue ran on, the less
Of weight it bore, with greater ease.

But still his tongue ran on, the less
Of weight it bore, with greater ease.

Is not the winding up witnesses,
And nicking, more than half the bus'ness?
For witnesses, like watches, read more

Is not the winding up witnesses,
And nicking, more than half the bus'ness?
For witnesses, like watches, go
Just as they're set, too fast or slow;
And where in Conscience they're strait-lac'd,
'Tis ten to one that side is cast.

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow:
Some kick'd read more

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow:
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers read more

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers he bore
Were on the new world set ashore,
He made it next his chief design
To plant and propagate a vine,
Which since has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater number, on dry ground,
Of wretched mankind, one by one,
Than all the flood before had done.

It is tact that is golden, not silence.

It is tact that is golden, not silence.