Epigram On The Many Violent Disputes Among The Preachers Of The Gospel

The labourers in the vineyard toil (So numerous are their creeds) Far less to cultivate the soil, Than break each others' heads. *        *        *        *        * 'Write epigrams! why, Sir, there's nothing in it. I would be bound—the merest scribbler could— To write one in a minute.' No doubt you could—but then there would Indeed, be nothing in it. *        *        *        *        * The ambitious rage of Russia nought controls, With her vast empire she'd unite the Poles.