His fear was greater than his haste: For fear, though fleeter than the wind, Believes 'tis always left behind.

Fear is an ague, that forsakes And haunts, by fits, those whom it takes; And they'll opine they feel the pain And blows they felt, to-day, again.

Fear is static that prevents me from hearing myself.

Quoth Hudibras, I smell a rat; Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate.

For now the field is not far off Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words.

He was in Logic, a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in Analytic; He could distinguish, and divide A hair 'twixt south and south-west side.