Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that read more

Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that convict you of theft? Why
do you attempt to associate foxes with lions, and make owls pass
for eagles? Though you had one of Ladas's legs, you would not be
able, blockhead, to run with the other leg of wood.

Copy from one, it's plagiarism; copy from two, it's research.

Copy from one, it's plagiarism; copy from two, it's research.

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he read more

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took--the same as me.

Steal!--to be sure they may; and egad, serve your best thoughts
as gypsies do stolen children, disfigure them to read more

Steal!--to be sure they may; and egad, serve your best thoughts
as gypsies do stolen children, disfigure them to make 'em pass
for their own.

With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.

With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.

Who, to patch up his fame--or fill his purse--
Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse;
read more

Who, to patch up his fame--or fill his purse--
Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse;
Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known,
Defacing first, then claiming for his own.

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to read more

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to invention,
to use, or beauty or form, we are borrowers.

To copy others is necessary, but to copy oneself is pathetic

To copy others is necessary, but to copy oneself is pathetic

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How read more

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How here he sipp'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And suck'd all o'er like an industrious bug.