His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch
The other read more

His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor,
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished,
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

This story will never go down.

This story will never go down.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

But that's another story.

But that's another story.

I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.

I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.

Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.

Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.

A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on read more

A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on your side,
May furnish illustration, well applied;
But sedentary weavers of long tales
Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.

When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need;
Pick out read more

When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need;
Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sin.