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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.
Fine words! I wonder where you stole 'em.
[Lat., Libertas et natale solum.]
Fine words! I wonder where you stole 'em.
[Lat., Libertas et natale solum.]
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another read more
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge, another bears.
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.
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.
It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself read more
It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself capable of original writing, is
entitled thenceforth to steal from the writings of others at
discretion.
We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . read more
We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . . . Our storydressers do as much; he that comes
last is commonly best.
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.