If , whilst the Man was young,
Slip'd up too soon into his Tongue:
Pleas'd with his own fantastic Skill,
He lets that Weapon ne'er lie still.
On any Point if You dispute;
Depend upon it, He'll confute:
Change Sides; and You increase your Pain:
For He'll confute You back again.
For One may speak with  Tongue;
Yet all the while be in the wrong.
And 'tis remarkable, that They
Talk most, who have the least to say.
Your dainty Speakers have the Curse,
To plead bad Causes down to worse:
As Dames, who Native Beauty want,
Still uglier look, the more They paint.