POEMS OLD AND NEW

For't has been held by many, that

As Montaigne, playing with his cat,

Complains she thought him but an ass,

Much more she would Sir Hudibras :

(For that's the name our valiant knight

To all his challenges did write).

But they're mistaken very much ;

'Tis plain enough he was not such.

We grant, although he had much wit,

H' was very shy of using it, I0

As being loth to wear it out,

And therefore bore it not about ;

Unless on holy days or so,

As men their best apparel do.

For rhetoric he could not ope
His mouth but out there flew a trope ;
And when he happen'd to break off
I9 th' middle of his speech, or cough,
H' had hard words ready to show why,
And tell what rules he did it by ; 20

Else, when with greatest art he spoke.
You'd think he talk'd like other folk ;
For all a rhetorician's rules
Teach nothing but to name his tools.

A SQUIRE he had whose name was Ralph,
That in th' adventure went his half,
Though writers for more stately tone,
Do call him Ralpho, 'tis all one ;
And, when we can with metre safe,
We'll call him so ; if not, plain Ralph ; 30

(For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses) :
An equal stock of wit and valour
He had laid in, by birth a tailor.

SAMUEL BUTLER

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