I
LEST it may more quarrels breed,
I will never hear you read.
II
By disputing, I will never,
To convince you once endeavour.
III
When a paradox you stick to,
I will never contradict you.
IV
When I talk and you are heedless,
I will show no anger needless.
V
When your speeches are absurd,
I will ne'er object a word.
VI
When you furious argue wrong,
I will grieve and hold my tongue.
VII
Not a jest or humorous story
Will I ever tell before ye:
To be chidden for explaining,
When you quite mistake the meaning.
VIII
Never more will I suppose,
You can taste my verse or prose.
IX
You no more at me shall fret,
While I teach and you forget.
X
You shall never hear me thunder,
When you blunder on, and blunder.
XI
Show your poverty of spirit,
And in dress place all your merit;
Give yourself ten thousand airs:
That with me shall break no squares.[2]
XII
Never will I give advice,
Till you please to ask me thrice:
Which if you in scorn reject,
'Twill be just as I expect.
Thus we both shall have our ends,
And continue special friends.