« FöregåendeFortsätt »
A disputable point is no man's ground;
Rove where you please, 'tis common all around.
Discourse may want an animated-No,
To brush the surface and to make it flow;
But still remember, if you mean to please,
To press your point with modesty and ease.
The mark, at which my juster aim I take,
Is contradiction for its own dear sake.
Set your opinion at whatever pitch, .
Knots and impediments make something hitch.
Adopt his own, 'tis equally in vain,
Your thread of argument is snapt again;
The wrangler, rather than accord with you,
Will judge himself deceiv’d, and prove it too.
Vociferated logick kills me quite;
A noisy man is always in the right-
I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair,
Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare,
And, when I hope his blunders are all out,
Reply discreetly to be sure--doubt!
DUBIUS is such a scrupulous good man-
Yes you may catch him tripping if you can.
Ile would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own;
With hesitation admirably slow,
Ile humbly hopes--presumes-it may be so.
His evidence, if he were call’d by law
To swear to some enormity he saw,
For want of prominence and just relief,
Would hang an honest man, and save a thief.
Through constant dread of giving truth offence,
all his hearers in suspense; Knows what he knows as if he knew it not, What he remembers seems to have forgot; His sole opinion, whatsoe'er befall, Cent’ring at last in having none at all.
Of all ambitions man may entertain,
The worst that can invade a sickly brain,
Is that which angles hourly for surprise,
And baits its hook with prodigies and lies.
Credulous infancy, or age as weak,
Are fittest auditors for such to seek,
Who to please others will themselves disgrace;
Yet please not, but affront you to your face.
A great retailer of this curious ware,
Having unloaded and made many stare,
Can this be true?-an arch observer cries,
Yes, (rather mov’d) I saw it with these eyes!
Sir! I believe it on that ground alone;
I could not, had I seen it with my own.
TH'emphatic speaker dearly loves ť oppose,
In contact inconvenient, nose to nose,
As if the gnomon on his neighbour's phiz,
Touch'd with a magnet, had attracted his.
His whisper’d theme, dilated and at large,
Proves after all a wind-gun's airy charge,
An extract of his diary—no more,
A tasteless journal of the day before.
He walk'd abroad, o'ertaken in the rain,
Call’d on a friend, drank tea, stept' home again,
Resum'd his purpose, had a world of talk
With one he stumbled on, and lost his walk.
I interrupt him with a sudden bow,
Adieu, dear Sir, lest you should lose it now.
THE solemn fup, significant and budge;
A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge.
He says but little, and that little said,
Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead.
His wit invites you by his looks to.come,
But when you knock it never is at home:
"Tis like a parcel sent you by the stage,
Some handsome present, as your hopes presages
"Tis heavy, bulky, and bids fair to prove
An absent friend's fidelity and love,
But when unpack'd your disappointment groans
To find it stuff'd with brickbats, earth, and stones.