The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
Cry hem; and reading what they never wrote
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!

They shall knaw a file, and flee unto the mountains of Hepsidam
whar the lion roareth and the Wang read more

They shall knaw a file, and flee unto the mountains of Hepsidam
whar the lion roareth and the Wang Doodle mourneth for its first
born--ah!

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
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I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honest in the sacred cause.

Do as we say, and not as we do.
[Lat., Faites ce que nous disons, et ne faites pas read more

Do as we say, and not as we do.
[Lat., Faites ce que nous disons, et ne faites pas ce que nous
faisons.]

I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.

I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.

Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
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Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain,
And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture; much impress'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look,
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men.

Go forth and preach impostures to the world,
But give them truth to build on.

Go forth and preach impostures to the world,
But give them truth to build on.

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the read more

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt,
Not practise!